A Tale of Christmas
by nedfan
Summary: Sometimes, it is just about reaching out to somebody. And through this simple gesture, one finds that the true spirit of Christmas has not been forgotten....Now Complete.
1. Chapter 1

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Author's Note: Christmas is nigh and most of us will spend those days with family and loved ones, the stories about those events are multiple, the stories of the ones more unfortunate aren't.

**This one will touch the spirit of this festivity. The reason why it all began, so so long ago. I hope you will enjoy the journey and hopefully the message portrayed will not be lost.

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A Tale of Christmas

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C_omment feront-ils, Pour ne pas sentir la bise ?_

_Comment feront-ils, J'ai peur qu'ils ne périssent._

_Tous leurs habits sont faits de toile grise,_

_Il sont tous troués, on leur voit la chemise,_

_Les trous, les trous ne tiennent guère chaud_

**H**ow do they do it, Not to smell the peck?

How will they make it, I am afraid that they perish.

All their clothes are made of grey cloth,

It's all in holes, if you can see their shirts

Holes making a hole, one will hardly stay warm.

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_**Q**uel froid il fait, Où est ma vareuse ?_

_Quel froid il fait, J'ai peine à cheminer._

_Je sens déjà que la chair me tremblote,_

_Je sens déjà las, je peux plus tirer seule,_

_Le froid, le froid me fait geler les doigts_.

**W**hy is it this cold to me, Where is my jersey?

Why is it this cold to me, I find it difficult to walk along.

I already have a feeling that the flesh quivers me,

I feel already weary, I cannot pull alone anymore,

The cold, oh, the cold freezes my fingers.

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Excerpt from: Lu Pastourèu (Les Pastoureaux) (The Shepherd Boys)

Noël traditionnel d'origine Provençale

(est. 1660)


	2. Chapter 2

**I**

**L**ove, they say, can be expressed in a dazzling variety of ways. It's about letting in, reaching out, showing true compassion, being Samaritan, perhaps it's altruism. It's giving warmth to those who need it. Shelter to those in need of a refuge. It's about giving hope for those who despair, standing up for the one being bullied. It can be in small things that one finds true compassion, closely intertwined with love.

And sometimes it is just about holding hands. Letting someone know he's not alone anymore.

Christmas is in its essence about all this.

Through all the Advent Wreaths, lighted Christmas trees, shiny picturesque streets, decorated shopping-malls, the ancient message of Christmas is perhaps subdued.

But not forgotten.


	3. Chapter 3

**II**_**

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**S**_chneeflöckchen, Weißröckchen, da kommst du geschneit;  
du kommst aus den Wolken, dein Weg ist so weit_

_Komm, setz dich ans Fenster, du lieblicher Stern;  
malst Blumen und Blätter, wir haben dich gern_.

**L**ittle snowflake, little white drop, comes snowing down, Lo;

You come from the clouds, with such a long way to go.

Come, come to the window, you lovely starry gem,

Draw flowers and leafs, and stay as our friend.

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**Snowfall is a wonderful experience. The first hesitant flakes cautiously drifting towards the earth, almost shyly touching the soil, the streets. At first there's a battle fought between the flakes and the resisting ground. And for a while the latter prevails over the first. But then gradually it bows for the gentle attack by the ever increasing amount of flakes coming down, forming a thin layer, as a stronghold for the rest to come and expand territory. Like an airborne army it claims land, settling the flakes, its soldiers, and conquering the rest from there on. Gradually the thin layer grows thicker, ever so gently, but unstoppable. 

When the pack is getting more dense, an amazing phenomenon occurs: sounds increasingly vanish until there is just silence, only the soft rustling of snow on rooftops or branches of trees are to be heard, only to be interrupted by the muffled sound of a patch of snow sliding off those same branches when the load gets too heavy.

Snowfall after dark is even more wonderful. The dimly lit streets begin to lighten up as the white pack reflects all the light. In the rays of the street lanterns the falling flakes get something hypnotizing. Falling from nowhere it seems. Enshrouding everything and everyone.

Freshly fallen snow makes even the harshest of streets and cities seem like a wonderful place to be, covering up the degradation, the fears are smothered through the soft pack, the pace of life slowing down. Things are becoming unrecognisable, thus making them equal.

Washington DC snow-covered was no exception to this. Political heart of the United States of America, symbol of world-dominance and strength, its firm appearance being softened by the white cloth, it was a city of extremities. Nearly adjacent to the glory and majesty of The Mall, the many Avenues with its statues and Circles, there was also poverty and degradation. Two worlds wrapped into one city that could turn ugly every once in a while. But not always.

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Sue loved snowfall. Ever since a child, the falling flakes had her mesmerized, almost hypnotized. Her nose glued to the window of her room she watched the snow building, eager to get out and explore. Although she loved the snow itself, the foretoken of snowfall usually affected her. A headache and sore ears were usually the omens of snow drifting in. But once it had started to fall, they disappeared. As a child she got out, with her brothers, as soon as it was permitted to go out. Warm clothes and a warm woollen cap over her ears to shield off her sensitive ears to the piercing cold. After hours of play she would come home, exhausted and her ears would be painful once again, the cold always gradually affected her. Usually she would go to bed. 

But the hours outside were always something she had enjoyed, and still did. Snow filtered out sounds, made things that once stood out equal in the sense that all was covered. In other words made it possible to others to experience silence, thus being equal to her.

Even today as a woman, she loved snow. Dressed warm in her woollen overcoat, beret, leather gloves and boots she stood still to take in the unfolding scenery in front of her. Darkness had already settled on this Saturday afternoon and it had began to snow just over an hour ago.

It was a week before Christmas.

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The decorated houses stood next to each other, tiny lights brightening up the many conifer trees in many a front garden. Warm light shone from the windows of the houses, and there where the curtains were still left open, a colourfully decorated Christmas tree stood majestically in the centre of the living room. The slowly building pack of snow made it all more picturesque with every hour gone by. 

It was not until Levi nudged her that she was disturbed in her reverie. She looked down to see the golden furred canine happily wiggling his tail, looking up, a ragged down tennis ball in front of him. His pleading eyes begged her to pick it up and throw it away. So she did. It flopped in the snow, with the dog embarking on a frantic quest after it. Sue had to laugh at her dog's behaviour. His enthusiasm was contagious.

With the tip of her booted toe she scooped up some snow at Levi who jumped round her, barking for joy. She continued this spiel until she came at a house where a magnificent fir was enshrouded in mini-lights. Amidst the snow covered lawn it stood there, fierce, spreading light in the darkness, a symbol of warmth.

'Isn't it beautiful Levi?', she said to him. The dog didn't look like he was overly bothered but he nevertheless had stopped running around. Then his attention was suddenly diverted to something else, he pawed Sue who was still standing there, admiring the view. She looked down to him. 'What is it, boy?' She saw he was looking towards the street, so she turned to see what had caught his attention. Next to his car stood Jack.

'So, the friendly FBI neighbourhood agent is on patrol?', he said. Unfortunately, albeit the streetlights where in their intensity somewhat magnified through the snowfall, the lighting was still too poor for Sue to see what he had said. 'Jack…', was her simple answer, 'what are you doing here?'

He walked away from his car and moved into the light of the tree. 'Just happening to drive by.' She raised her brows. 'I couldn't really see that. _Happening_ or _having_?', she said with tongue in cheek. His lips curled into a smile. 'Whatever you prefer works for me.'

She nodded, a smile playing around her lips. 'I'm sure you did say something catchy back there', she said gesturing at the car. 'But unless it was something outrageously flirting would you mind repeating it?' He laughed, his warm breath forming clouds in the cold air.

'I asked if you were patrolling the neighbourhood.' She gestured at Levi. 'Just having a dog day afternoon.'

'Were you now? Looked to me like you were having quite a bit of fun.' Her eyes narrowed. 'And just how long have you been watching me?', she asked.

'Well, I happened to be on my way to Ally when I spotted a familiar figure.' Sue watched his lips intently, even with the light from the brightly lit tree it was still a great effort to see what he actually could be saying. 'I'm sorry did you say _alley_ or Ally?', she asked even though she knew the answer.

'Ally', he said, spelling it for her. 'Oh, okay, that's what I figured.' He knitted his brows for a split second with her remark. 'So, anyway I saw you and then Levi and I figured a word or two wouldn't harm.'

'Well, it has turned into more than a word or two already.'

'Apparently.'

'Yeah, so…what was it you wanted to talk about?'

'Nothing specific in mind, just, you know, having a chat.'

'Right.'

'Right', he responded, not knowing what else to say.

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They stood a bit awkwardly in front of each other, neither of them sure what to do or say next. 'So, how's Ally?', she asked. 

'Fine, she's fine.'

'I'm glad to hear.'

'I'll tell her you said Hi if you want…' She smiled a small smile. 'That would be nice.' They paused again. 'You sure picked a nice place to have a chat', she remarked. He raised his brows but looked round and then he frowned. 'Yeah, come to think of it: you're right', he said and he rubbed his fist over his chest. "SORRY". 'Not much light.' She nodded. 'I, eh, have to get going, don't want to leave her waiting', he said and smiled apologetically.

'No you shouldn't. I won't keep you any longer, Levi wants to get back too. Tell her I said Hi will you?' He nodded. 'I will, goodnight.' And he got back into his car. She watched him drive off.

_That has turned into one of the most embarrassing and awkward conversation we've had in months,_ she thought. _It did start out great though_…As soon as the word Ally fell, she couldn't help feeling a bit disappointed. _But what for? What did she expect anyway?_

She stared down the street where she had come from. The conversation had another side-effect: the snowfall had lost its magic and she felt cold suddenly. She picked up the tennis ball Levi had dropped near the tips of her boots. 'I think it's time to head home, Levi', she said as she signed "HOME", a flattened O with the tips of her fingers touching her cheek near the mouth, moving it upwards in an arc, and touching the cheek again near the ear.

The dog didn't seem to be particularly happy about this sudden change but he nevertheless followed her.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thanks for the first reviews, and yes, I translated the French song myself as well as the German one, it's one of the benefits of being raised multi-lingually (Six and counting). A, perhaps redundant, note: all the Capitalized sentences are Glossed ASL, the Italic in between double brackets are signed yet for the benefit of you readers put down in English.**

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Once she was back home she hung up her coat, and stamped the snow off her boots. Inside the living room it was warm and cosy. She found Lucy sitting on the couch watching a documentary on PBS.. Sue noticed Lucy had the closed caption on. She looked up when Sue entered the room and gave a small smile, but her cheeks were wet.

"OKAY YOU?", Sue asked worried.

"NOT REALLY", she signed and gestured at the TV. "_This documentary has got me, bad._" Sue turned her attention towards the TV. "_What's it about?_"

"_Birth control in…_", she paused, frowning. "R-O-M-A-N-I-A, SIGN HOW?" Sue pursed her lips, thinking. Then she touched the left side of her chest with the fingertips of a modified C hand, where only thumb and indexfinger made a curve. She moved it downwards at an angle to the right side of her body, near the waist. "_That's how you sign Romania._"

Lucy nodded, mimicking the sign. "_Just watch it, it's horrific._"

The documentary was about the monstrous side-effects of former Romania's dictator Nicolae Ceauşescu's Birth Control Policy, officially known as Decree 1966. In his vision of a Greater Romania contraception and abortion was banned to increase the population to achieve the masses he dreamed of. And having children became a matter of the State.

Special taxes aimed at childless couples were implemented, demanding payments when they didn't produce children after twenty-five years of age, preferably multiple.

Decree 1966 had devastating results. Ten of thousands of women died because of complications when having an illegal abortion which were often carried out on kitchen tables, with the only anaesthetic being a sip of vodka, or perished when the Securitate –the secret police- raided hospitals for pregnant women looking for a –clandestine- abortion. Hospital policies demanded that the child had to be saved no matter what, even if it meant the mother would die.

Many women saw no other option to improve life and committed suicide. Those who survived the improvised abortions usually became maimed.

Decree 1966 led to a surge in orphaned children, abandoned and homeless, roaming the streets of many urban areas. Babies with a 'defect', either mentally of physically were either killed or put away in unheated, degrading conditions where Spartan was an euphemism, and left to die.

The regime's refusal to acknowledge AIDS made that tests were not carried out, resulting in thousands of children having AIDS as contraceptives were illegal.

When Ceauşescu was shot and killed in the southern city of Târgovişte by a fire-squad after the 1989 Christmas uprising, Decree 1966 came to an end and the discoveries of the orphanages where mentally ill children were left half-naked to die in the cold, the rest of the world could see first hand how one grotesque and twisted leader's mind could inflict unimaginable suffering on its people.

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The two women sat there, tears in their eyes, their minds gob smacked how man could be so devious, evil and ruthless in pursuing a grotesque idea. Neither of them was capable or willing to say anything for a while. The part about deaf children being cast away as though they were something worthless had affected Sue to her innermost soul.

She thought about Helga, how her family was killed by Otto Zimmer for being deaf, and she cried silently. Lucy pressed her lips together, when realisation kicked in.

'Oh my god Sue…', she said as she embraced her friend, trying to comfort her. When she let go again, Sue had managed to get more grip on her emotions.

'I can't believe people can be so cruel, they're so innocent, Lucy…..so innocent…', she said her voice barely more than a whisper. "ME KNOW", she responded and took her hand. "ME SORRY", she signed. Sue swallowed away her tears. "WHY? _You couldn't help it either, but I know what you mean…thank you for comforting me. Thanks for being a friend._"

'I just got so sucked into this I forgot how this would affect you', Lucy said patting her friend's hand. 'It's okay, Luce, really, it's the past.'

They stared at the Christmas tree simultaneously. 'I can't help but to feel it has lost a bit of its glory, after seeing this', said Lucy. 'You know, knowing that…'

Silence once settled in until Sue broke it. 'However frightful this was, and I'm almost feeling guilty for saying this, I wish we won't let it ruin our mood.'

Lucy held her right hand in front of her, thumb and little finger extended, other bend, palm facing right and moved it back and forth to Sue and herself. "ME AGREE WITH YOU"

'A great way to start the Christmas week….'

Sue helped herself to a cup of tea. 'Yeah.'

'I completely forgot to ask how things were outside, it was snowing pretty intense as you left', said Lucy. 'And I forgot to ask why you were already watching with closed captions on', said Sue, 'that makes us even.'

Lucy frowned. "CAPTION ON? I hadn't noticed.' She began to smile, "_Seems we're hanging out way too long, girl_." Sue smiled back, feeling relieved the sombre mood was vanishing again. "PAH!", she responded. 'But to answer your question: it's wonderful outside.'

'You're not having any pain? I know how snow affects you…'

"ME FINE HEAD HURT LITTLE, _usually when snow has started to fall, I'm okay. If I don't stay out too long in the wind_." She leaned over and unzipped her boots and pulled them off, and curled her feet under her. 'You know who I happened to bump into?'

Lucy shook her head, her brows up. 'Jack', said Sue.

"J-C-K?" Sue nodded. "HIM WANT WHAT?" She shook her head.

'He said he was happening to drive by when he saw me.'

'Happening or having?'

'My question too.'

'And?'

'What did he say?'

Sue sighed. 'Not much really. Having a chat as he called it. He was on his way to Ally.'

'Oh', said Lucy with a knowing look.

'Yeah. It turned out to be a pretty embarrassing conversation from there on.'

Lucy shook her head. 'There're times I don't get this Hudson-kid at all.'

Sue frowned. 'Sorry?'

"J-C-K, HIM CONFUSE ME", she signed. 'I mean, what's the purpose of driving by, when you don't have anything to say?' Sue shrugged.

'And the 'I'm on my way to Ally' is so corny…' Sue's eyes went a little wider. Lucy saw it and broke out in laughter. 'You didn't think that I said…..' Sue had to laugh too. 'It looked like it. For a second or so.'

'Wow, aren't we mature', she quipped as she signed "MATURE", her right M hand moving upward from the heel of her left open hand -palm facing left, fingers upright- to the fingers of her left hand.

'But you're right. It doesn't make sense, and above all I don't know what it is he wants', said Sue. Lucy huffed, her nose wrinkled up. 'Girl, he doesn't know what he wants _himself.'_


	5. Chapter 5

**III**

**T**he cold was the worst, with the snow itself he could deal. Keeping warm was becoming ever more troublesome in the improvised shelters he made. His frail body, battered with the living on the streets during all these years, was worn out.

Living on the streets was a hard life, but one he was accustomed to. It didn't mean he liked it, but he had long ago given up the hope things were going to be better. With every season that went by, his hopes diminished.

So did his spirit, and ultimately his body too.

The District – only out-of-towners spoke of DC - was a hard place to live for someone his age, for those with a frail health the city was like a predator. Weakness was to those preying on the vulnerable like honey to bees. And an old age didn't mean a thing.

Walter 'Bear' Prescott was both.

At seventy-four years of age, the former Purple Heart and Bronze Star Korean War veteran felt life slipping away. But he had long ago learned not to worry about the next day, as long as you got through the present one. Tomorrow was another time, the future, an abstract if not alien term to those struggling to survive.

It didn't mean Walter didn't know Christmas was coming within a week. He might be homeless, but that he knew. Advent wreaths hanging everywhere, and the scarce time he spent inside the church he had noticed the two candles burning on the wreath there.

Raised on a Roman Catholic orphanage, the nuns had made sure he got the essence of every symbol. By force if it meant for him to acknowledge or respect the traditions. Tomorrow would be Sunday, that he knew too. Every Sunday, a candle was lit, representing the beginning of the light of Christ born on the night of Christmas Eve. Four candles would be burning on the fourth, or last Sunday before Christmas.

This year, the fourth Sunday of Advent would be on Christmas Eve.

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As a boy he had to attend the Mass of the Vigil, the Mass that opened Christmas. He hated the long hours, but the Latin lines and hymns had him intrigued. Now, the only times he spent inside the four walls of a church was for a free meal of some warmth. Until the Pastor closed the door at the end of the day, forcing him back onto the cold, harsh streets.

He coughed, hard and long until blood was on his hand, a sore pain in his chest added to the miserable state he felt himself caught in. The coughing had been particularly persistent this year, though he couldn't remember the time he hadn't had it during the winter-season.

'Hell, I cough during summer too', he muttered to himself as he stumbled down the alley. His right leg stiff as a column, a souvenir of the Battle of Chosin Reservoir in November and December 1950, where he and his comrades of the 7th Infantry Division had been fighting the Chinese. Walter had been hit by shrapnel of a Chinese artillery shell as he tried to pull a wounded friend out of harm's way. For that act of heroism he got the Bronze Star, together with the Purple Heart for the injuries in battle.

He still kept the medals close to him, together with a yellowed and crumbled picture of him and his bothers in arms of the 7th Infantry or 'Bayonet Division' on Inchon. To them he was known as 'Bear' because of his strength and posture.

But those days were long gone, now he was an old man, dirty, cold and breakable as glass.

His only priority was to find a place to spend the night, to find warmth. So Walter toured down his usual spots, near Union Station, along the Railway express bridge that led H street NE over the tracks, the warmth of the vents from the Metro Red Line near 1st street or the Greyhound/Peter Pan bus terminal on 1st and L street.

There he could find shelter in the dark caves under the tracks that were built elevated. If not, the One NoMa Station on M street had a roofed area where litter was collected, and garbage-containers stood, providing him and others with cardboard boxes and other leftovers to create makeshift homes.

During his quest, Walter had to stop numerous times to cough up more blood, and try to let the pain in his chest ebb away. The snow was freezing his feet and hands. Although he was wearing a form of protection, the cold nevertheless pierced through. Shivering, Walter had finally managed to get under the protection of the tunnel of L street, where a small fire had been lit by others in a makeshift camp.

There, he figured, he could spend the night, provided the Greyhound Security staff or DC Metro didn't chase them away, which happened. The tired, worn out body of 'Bear' Prescott had endured more than its share of maltreatment and malnutrition and exhausted he fell asleep. His only cover an old cloth he had found previously.

In the middle of his sleep, he suddenly felt the wind stinging him, and he woke up to find someone else had stolen his makeshift blanket.

Now, he was unprotected, and once more, 'Bear' dealt with yet another setback in his troubled life: he rested in acquiesce and tried to get some warmth from the dying fire in the drum. And he fell back into a fitful sleep


	6. Chapter 6

**IV**

**C**hristmas and the ending of a year are usually the time for contemplation, looking back and ahead. A new year is like a clean slate. Untainted and pure, as white as snow if you will. Christmas is the time of hope. The same hope that was felt and announced on that day in Bethlehem thousands of years ago. It is no wonder during those days, even in bitter wars, truces are declared or peace is made. Even during the vicious First World War, amidst the carnage in Flanders and Northern France, the guns stopped firing on December 24th, and amazing tales of German soldiers and English soldiers celebrating Christmas together in the trenches are a symbol of the spirit these days bring.

In everyday life it's a time of celebrating what you have, and longing for what you wish for. It can be about very simple things, or modest expectations. But what all dreams and wished have in common is the desire to have it better than in the previous year.

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Sue had risen early, a result of a night filled with flashbacks to the things she had seen, and her pondering over the things she had done this year. She too had hopes for the future, although she hadn't expressed them out loud, only with Lucy. Well, some of them.

_Was she happy with what she had accomplished?_ Yes, with most of it she was. Her work provided enough suspense and change, plus it was work one could be proud of. And she was proud of her work, so were her parents and brothers.

_Father_…. The heart-attack he had had during summer had scared her. For a couple of hours after the initial phone-call from her mother, she had no idea how he was, what they were doing with him and how severe it all would be. Contact had proved to be difficult with only snapshots of conversations with her mother who was in the hospital, and the phone-calls to and from her brothers, who were as much in the dark as she was.

Only later she had heard is had been touch-and-go, as one of the doctors had said. If he had not received angioplasty within the time-limit, complications would have been serious. Sue couldn't dare to think what could have happened.

Those frightful hours had taken their toll later, when things were calming down and she had had time for herself. Then the pent-up anxieties were free to flow and she had taken a few days off to let it ease down.

It was a time she had learned yet again how precious life was, how important the well-being of family and friends was to her and how suddenly plans and futures could be changed, in a heart's beat. It had made her thinking about her plans as well. What she wanted in life, expected from life. Some of these expectancies she had shared with Lucy, but not all of them. For she wasn't sure whether it were reasonable things to want, or just dreams.

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She sighed as she stirred her tea. Last night's encounter with Jack hadn't made things easier. If it would be once or twice, then there was nothing to it. Just a coincidence.

But she had had these coincidences a lot the last couple of months. She knew he was involved again with Ally, or so she figured for he mentioned her a few times. Sometimes their tête-à-tête was pleasant, or had even a touch of attraction. But sometimes it was just awkward, like last night.

She felt utterly confused after most of them, unsure what it was he wanted or didn't want for that matter. Even though they talked, not much was being said. At least not the things that should've been said, she thought. It was partially what she had laid awake about. Up to this point she hadn't had the urge or guts to tell him he either should stop it, or make up his mind what it was he really wanted. For this lead to nowhere, and she felt hindered in moving on.

She was interrupted in her musings when she saw movement in the kitchen door.

"GOOD MORNING", Lucy said, her eyes still a bit sleepy, her hair ruffled. Sue responded. "SLEEP GOOD YOU?"

"_Not really_", said Lucy. "_This documentary has kept me awake for at least half of the night_"

Sue smiled. "ME SAME-SAME" She watched her friend as she poured herself a cup of tea too, and added some sugar. 'I thought you wanted to lose some before the holidays?'

Lucy looked at her, her eyes sleep-infested. 'What…?'

"TEA, SUGAR PUT-IN YOU" Lucy frowned and looked in her cup. She began to grin sheepishly. 'Yeah….' Sue looked at her amused. 'You look really sleepy, you know.'

'I feel so too. Maybe after this cup it'll be better.'

'Any plans for today?', she asked after a while. Sue shrugged. 'Not really, maybe we could go do some fun-shopping today, you know…' Lucy lips curled into a smile. 'Now that's a reasonable plan, unless….'

'Unless?'

"_Does it still snow?_" Sue shook her head. "_It has stopped snowing late last night._"

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When Sue had returned from a short stroll with Levi, Lucy was about ready to go. Sue wiped the snow of her jacket as she stepped inside the hall. Lucy mustered her, her lips pursed. Sue couldn't help but to feel she had something to say.

"WHAT?"

"CLOTHES, WEAR THEM YOU WILL?" Sue mustered her outfit: jeans, snow boots and a jacket. Indeed not the most elegant outfit possible, she thought. Yet she shrugged, feigning indifference. "_At least they're warm._" Lucy shook her head. 'For someone with such a good taste in clothing, that's a wrong answer. And you know it.'

'You want me to change?' Lucy nodded. 'How are we supposed to get all the guys turning their heads when we're not sexy as hell?' Sue began to laugh. 'You're right, I'd say it's about time you and me go out and flirt wildly.' Lucy's grin widened. "_Now we're talking._"

"_I'll be right back._"

When she returned she looked like she had a makeover. Gone were the comfortable, yet inelegant snow boots. Instead she wore stylish black knee-high Jimmy Choo's, a deep red woollen coat in the now fashionable cavalry-look: with braids and fitted at the waist. Her blonde hair framing her face and falling over her shoulders. Lucy looked at her approvingly. "_If I wasn't a woman, I'd have a crush on you._"

"THANK YOU", she said laughing and put on her leather gloves. "YOU READY?"

"_You bet, Washington beware_", she joked. Sue put Levi on his leash and they walked out.


	7. Chapter 7

**V**

**H**e woke up when someone stomped his foot against him. He winced as he opened his eyes and immediately he squinted against the searchlight. He blinked a few times against the bright light. Then he saw a guard of the neighbouring station looking at him.

'It's time you beat it, pops.' Walter, his body stiff from the night, didn't move for it was too painful to stretch his rheum-infested limbs. 'You deaf? I said move', the guard bellowed beginning to get agitated. He made a move that promised the use of force, but Walter –being on the streets for so long- knew he wasn't going to touch him. Too dirty. And I can't blame him, he added.

'Just a minute, sir, I'm old and the body won't cooperate as it used to', he mumbled as he tried to get up. The guard checked his watch. 'You got ten minutes to pack up and beat it. When I come back I don't want to see you or your flee-riddled stuff.'

'Ten minutes. Yes sir.' The guard began to laugh. 'You got squat, you ain't gonna need no ten minutes. Beat it in five.' He walked away.

The process was all too familiar for 'Bear' Prescott, as long as it was dark and people couldn't see them, they were condoned to sleep under bridges, alleys. But when daylight dawned, they had to go. It always meant leaving within a heart's beat, without chances to take the few things they had spent the whole day looking for. So, they had to start all over again. Making the familiar rounds, roaming the same streets. When he was younger, 'Bear' Prescott could deal with it. Now, old and frail, and most of all freezing and ill, he couldn't.

With every step he took, it felt as if a hot sword was wedged in his chest and he coughed and coughed, almost fainting when his worn-out lungs couldn't keep up with the demand for air.

Since last Winter he had suffered from this illness. It had lasted throughout the chilly Spring and momentarily disappeared during the scorching heat of mid-Summer. But ever since temperatures had started to fall below fifty degrees (ten degrees Celsius) it had been persistent. He had no access to medicines and he had refused to go to a hospital when some of his friends on the streets had said he should. 'Hospitals make you sicker on the way out than when you went in. It'll go away when it's Spring again' he had said.

This year had been hard, for the few people he trusted enough to call a friend, had either died, were incarcerated for various reasons or had simply vanished with no one knowing where they went. With no one around who bothered enough about him to urge him to do something, he had decided to ride out the illness. But now, during another period of intense cold, snow and ice he knew he had made a mistake by not going.

In short, Walter 'Bear' Prescott was dying.

Alone.

With no one around who cared whether he was alive or not. And he knew it.

**

* * *

**

**۩**

* * *

Fun shopping in DC wasn't that hard to do, only exhausting. Especially since Lucy had to go to all the latest boutiques. They had not bought any significant things, except for a cashmere top Sue had found at a bargain's price in the Old Post Office Pavilion, yet they were amusing themselves perfectly. Sue was just admiring a two-piece suit when Lucy tapped her arm.

"_Okay, don't look immediately but there's someone just down the aisle checking you out like you wouldn't believe.._", she said. Sue couldn't help but to look. She caught his look when he shied his eyes away from her, and she smiled. _Lucy's right, he is looking_, she thought as he looked again in her direction. She made eye-contact with him, letting her gaze linger on him just long enough to make him, feigning to do so casually, look away for a few seconds.

They kept playing this little hide-and-seek for a while, as she moved to another aisle and spotted him watching again. Hanging out with Lucy had made her feel somewhat loosened up, she felt confidence building as men, handsome men, kept turning their heads at her on the streets, male clerks smiling at her. Lucy had noticed it and felt glad for her and together they embarked on a playful trip for attention, to be noticed.

In an act of defiance, when she held his gaze long enough, she ran her tongue over her lips, slowly. Not too obvious, but enough to make things clear: serious flirting.

She noticed a tinge of red surfacing on his cheeks and she smiled and pushed a strand of hair back behind her ear. The man put down the book he was pretending to look into and walked over to her. Sue exchanged a quick glance with Lucy: _now what?_

"_Play along, this could be fun, unless he's difficult to lip-read._"

"_That's what I mean_…"

'Hi', he said as he was near her.

'Hi', she said, acting casually. He smiled at her. 'I was intending to say something corny, but with you I couldn't think of anything. And it didn't feel right to say nothing.' Lucy managed to stifle a laugh when he said 'corny', remembering their 'alternate' discussion last night.

'So, 'Hi', was the best alternative?', Sue quipped, a smile dancing on her lips.

His face lit up in a smile. 'You got me.' He held up his hands defensively.

She smiled. 'But I think you got a start. Whether it is decent depends on what you're going to say next.' He almost did a double-take. 'Wow, good looking _and_ tongue-in-cheek. I'll have to be careful what I wish for…'

'Why, you think I'm too much to handle?', she flirted defiantly. Lucy's jaw nearly dropped. He began to blush a little. 'Well, I don't know, but I would _love_ to find out someday.'

'Who knows…', she said.

'Who knows indeed…', he responded. 'By the way, I'm James Fielding.' He handed her a business card. It read, _James R. Fielding, Professional Photographer, Reuters-AFP_

'Sue Thomas.' She gave him her card.

'You're with the FBI?' She nodded. He pursed his lips as he looked at her again. 'Too bad they didn't pick you as their spokeswoman. The camera would love you. You got all it takes.'

She smiled at his compliment. 'Not to mention you're downright sexy', he added. Sue felt how she began to blush. He smiled. 'That settles the score.'

'I think it does, doesn't it?'

'I, eh, won't keep you any longer because I have this feeling your friend here is waiting to go someplace.' Sue glanced at Lucy who had watched the interaction with mounting awe.

He faced her again. 'On the verge of sounding desperate: I really would like to go out with you.'

'Thanks, I'll think about it.' He said goodbye and left, but not without a final glance when he was nearly out of sight. When he was away, Lucy nearly stormed forward.

'That was….wow…I mean….That was sooo good…. That 'tongue-thing', the lines….'

She began to laugh, she felt exhilarated. 'You think so?'

'Girl, it seems that _I_ need lessons in flirting, not you…'

'Serious, Luce, I just….'

'Serious, Sue. You're a natural talent, you should do this way more often.'

She frowned a little. 'I don't know….'

'Of course you know. You're sexy, intelligent, independent…you can have all the guys you want.' Sue bit her lip and sighed. 'Except for one….'

'That's because Hudson, although being a good agent, can be dumb beyond beggars belief.'

Sue got only parts of it, but the essence was clear to her. 'I don't know whether it is dumbness or something else, maybe he's…I don't know….shy.'

Lucy huffed. "J-C-K, HIM SHY?" She shook her head. "BLIND HIM"

Sue shrugged a little. 'Whatever it is, it's not working out well.'

"ME AGREE", Lucy acknowledged. Then her face lit up again. 'Let's leave all this, and get on with having fun.'

'Fun as in?' Lucy rolled her eyes. 'Don't you get all innocent on me, Susan Thomas. How about finding another good-looking guy you and I are going to chat up? You really got the hang of it.' Sue lightly swatted her friend's arm. 'Luce! I might have been lucky this time, I really am not so good in this.'

The impish grin on her face said enough. "_Nonsense, you're a natural talent. Besides, it boosts your confidence doesn't it?_" Sue had to second Lucy on that, it did. And that led to being more defiant, feeling great, enjoying life and having a wonderful fun-shopping spree amidst the enchanting Christmas decorations and the silk white cloth Nature had laid over the city.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Time has been a little harsh on me, for I anticipated to have this story wrapped up more or less around these days, but it seems we´re not going to make it to finish it by Boxing Day. I nevertheless do like to continue and have it complete for you soon. Since Christmas officially has Twelve Days (Epiphany on January 6th) I, theoretically, have plenty of time, but I want to close this one down before Sylvester´s Eve (December 31st)**

**The other, not favourable, option is to stall this story till next year. Let me know if you want to see this one finished, even though it will be after Boxing Day. For now: thanks for reading and leave your thoughts on your way out.**

**Have a Merry Christmas.

* * *

**

**VI**

**N**o other festivity has more meaning and importance to people than Christmas. It has a worldwide appeal, even in countries non-Christian. In its roots it has started as a pagan, Germanic feast in which the passing of the longest night or winter-solstice was celebrated and the new light was welcomed. This Yule-fest, has had mayor influence on the way Christmas is celebrated nowadays, especially in the Northern-European countries and, through migration, in the United States. The Christmas tree is a pagan tradition, as is the hanging of Mistletoe and many more traditions. Christian missionaries that came to Northern Europe found it impossible to root out these traditions and adopted them.

In essence the spirit of awaiting the lengthening of the days in Spring when Winter was at its harshest has never lost its appeal. In old times, when survival was still an everyday factor, the promise of warmth, and light of day had strong, perhaps even deeply emotional, influence on one's mood. Pulling through together.

Perhaps that's why Christmas is about family too, together around the table, or unwrapping presents. No other feast has this strong a family aspect. Perhaps this is why solidarity with others, less fortunate, is stronger than during any other time in the year.

People tend to be more affected when tales of others who have it miserable during these times reach them. And people tend to act more swiftly during this time. Generosity is never higher than during the last weeks of the year. It could be about empathy, or being Samaritan. It could be out of a loving and caring nature. It could be out of a twinge of guilt, or an awareness of inequality.

Reasons can vary.

**

* * *

**

۩

* * *

Being raised in an orphanage, where the nuns who ruled seemed to have sworn to defy any act of mercifulness, meant in his early years he had lacked the essential conditions for well-being: love, care and attention. Together with the lack of a family, he never could truly call anyone as 'his own'. This absence gnawed every holiday season, when family was put upfront as the hinge on which true Christmas joyfulness hinged. 

In his memory, Christmas was as cold as any other feast. Or better: like the average temperature or mood of the orphanage or, respectively, the nuns. It didn't mean Walter didn't care for Christmas. Quite the opposite. When he was young, still a boy, he had collected all sorts of Christmas paraphernalia such as small wreaths, Ivy and even a garland, creating in his room the private Christmas mood he longed for as he walked the streets, seeing all the decorated shops' windows and homes.

His idyll was mercilessly disrupted when one of the nuns had discovered his secret decorations. Within seconds, the things he had spend two years of collecting on, were gone. As an act of repenting, they had forced him to dump the decorations in a litter-bin himself and watch it being hauled away when the bins were emptied.

It hadn't diminished his longing for a true Christmas, even if it just meant a once in a lifetime festivity. The thing closest to having a 'family' together at Christmas was when he and his fellow comrades did have a Winter Wonderland in Korea in the days before December 24th. In the bitter cold shallow trenches the men had found a way of commemorating it despite the continuing fighting.

As a sort of modern day Christmas Star, they shot flares into the sky, the fitful remains of a fir stood on top of the ring of sandbags. And there, they drank beer, laughed and tried to forget the cold, the killing and the misery.

It was the first time Walter had known Christmas as a feast of comradeship, of belonging.

Three days later, he was hit by shrapnel when the Chinese tried to regain foothold. In the ensuing pandemonium, people he had celebrated with just 72 hours ago, were shot or blow to pieces by Chinese artillery shells.

Three days later, he was on his way to Japan, as a casualty of war. Severely injured, crippled for life he returned to the United States. But Korea never left him. And eventually he cracked, loosing his job, his house and ultimately, his dignity too as he rummaged through litter bins to find food and clothing.

Despite that, the attraction was never truly lost. Every year he toured through decorated streets, and hoped something of this joyfulness and warmth would rub down on him. It never happened, except for the times someone, out of pity, threw him a few dollars with the remark 'I hope you will have a good Christmas too'.

Now, with the clock ticking, and time running out for him, Walter 'Bear' Prescott acquiesced he never would.

**

* * *

**

۩

* * *

It had been a while since Sue had had so much fun. Maybe it was something in the crisp cold air, maybe it was the dusk settling in, making all the lights seem like tiny stars descended to light up trees and shops, avenues. Lucy was all exited too. Maybe it was because the previous weeks had been busy, with both their schedules leaving little room for things like this. 

It felt like they had made up for all the time lost, and doubled it.

They sat down for coffee and cake.

"CHRISTMAS, YOU STAY WHERE WILL?", Lucy asked as the waiter had brought what they had ordered. "ME STAY D-C WILL"

"_Any special plans?_" Sue shook her head. "NOT YET"

"_Your family coming over this year?_"

"MOTHER, FATHER, THEM STAY HOME WILL" Lucy nodded and took a sip of her coffee. "Perhaps it's better for your dad not to do too much."

Sue seconded her on that.

"_And what about your plans for Christmas?_", she asked Lucy. She shook her head as if she was weighing options. "ME NOT KNOW, _I could go to my mother, or I could invite my mother to come over._" Sue took a sip of her coffee. "_Have you mother over, that would be fun. An all-girls Christmas Eve…Imagine the possibilities_"

"_You don't mind?_"

"FRIEND YOU, MOTHER, HER WELCOME", she said. "D-E-A-L?"

"D-E-A-L"

When they were done, they continued to visit shops. Taking in all things beautiful, revelling in the decorated streets. Their enthusiasm was contagious for people smiled when seeing the cheerful couple. They were on their way out from Hecht's when Sue spotted a familiar looking figure on his way in.

Jack.

_Damned_

She was already turning round when he spotted her too. He began to smile and waved. Reluctantly she stayed put in the brightly lit cosmetics department, there was no escape now, but at least she had some decent lighting.

'What a coincidence, meeting you here', he said as he met with them.

'Yeah, been having a lot of them lately', she smirked. He frowned lightly.

'So, on a Christmas shopping spree?', she asked him, changing the subject. 'Um, yeah, sort of. You?' She exchanged a look with Lucy. 'Sort of too.'

Then, James Fielding, the man she chatted up earlier that afternoon, happened to walk into Hecht's too. His face lit up seeing her and Lucy. 'Well, well. A small world, isn't it? I just couldn't stop thinking about this wildly attractive FBI woman I met and here she is again.'

Sue's face lit up in a broad smile. 'It must have been your Journalist's instincts. Cops and the Press, we seem to follow each other all the time', she responded, while she brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. James grinned. 'And a chase well worth making…'

Jack stood there, watching the interacting, baffled. What is this all about?

He exchanged a look with Lucy who looked back with an amused expression. Yeah right, some shopping…

James mustered Jack. 'Hmm, competition', he joked. Sue and Lucy burst out in laughter. He drew a puppy face. 'And it started so wonderful….' She wetted her lips before speaking, intentionally and defiant. Inwardly enjoying herself she noticed the effect on both men.

'Meet Jack Hudson, a _co-worker_­', she said emphasizing it for Jack's benefit. 'Jack, James Fielding.' Somewhat reluctantly he offered his hand. James took it, with considerably more enthusiasm. 'Nice to meet you.'

'Yeah, likewise', Jack semi-grunted. James let go of his hand and turned his attention to Lucy and Sue again. 'Remember I said you could be a poster-girl for the Feds?'

'How could I forget, it was flattering and tempting.'

'It is. But I wanted to say, you and your friend can have a free photo-shoot anytime, you know…Like in professional, the Vogue or Harper's kind of way.' Lucy's jaw dropped slightly. 'No kidding?' James shook his head. 'No, it might be stuff for a good cover-story or session, I can pull some strings if you want.' He looked at Sue. 'How does that sound?'

'Does what sound?'

'My offer…'

'Well, truthfully, I didn't hear it', she said. His brows knitted. 'What do you mea….you didn't hear it?' Sue nodded. 'I'm…'

'You're deaf', he stated simultaneously. 'Yes.'

'Oh', he said still frowning then his face lightened up. 'Oh! Of course: did you and Lucy sign something back in the Pavilion?'

'Yeah, didn't you see it?'

'I did, but only now something clicked. Must be me still being impressed by your outrageously attractive behaviour.' Sue felt how she began to blush. 'You know Michael Pimentel? The Deaf Sports-photographer for ESPN and what not?' He made an attempt to fingerspell. Even though it was a little confusing at first, Sue nodded, putting two and two together: she had read about him.

'You do? Well, I met him quite a few times during the 2004 Olympics. A real pro and he makes damn good pictures. But, that's when I encountered Sign Language.'

'You know Sign Language?' He ruefully shook his head. 'No, not really, I can partially blame a hectic schedule for not having time to take lessons.'

'You seem to have time to try to chat us up….'

'Damn, I forgot you were so quick with the witty remarks…', he said laughing. He checked his watch. 'Oh dear, I have to go I'm afraid, customer waiting. We'll be in touch?', he asked his eyebrows raised, head slightly forward. Sue nodded, so did Lucy. 'Sure, I would love to.' 'Good', he said and then he bid them goodbye and left.

Sue turned to Jack who stared James down. 'I'm sorry, you were left out a little.'

'Yeah, sort of…' he said, obviously ill at ease.

'You okay? You seem troubled.' He shook his head, partly a denial and partly it looked like he shrugged off something, a thought perhaps. 'I'm fine, just busy.'

'Hmm', Sue murmured. 'What?', he said. She frowned. 'What?'

'You said hmm.'

'What?', she said getting confused, for he didn't say anything afterwards, he just closed his lips.

'Never mind.' Now she was even more confused, and becoming a bit agitated. Was it really that hard to have a normal conversation? she wondered. Therefore she waited for him to say something. When he didn't, she opened the conversation again. 'If you're busy, we won't keep you any longer…' He shook his head. 'No, that's okay, I was not that busy, I mean I am busy, but not at the moment.'

'Is there anything you want to talk about? I mean, if you want to, we can sit down somewhere…'

'Thanks, but no, I eh…', his eyes trailed down the warehouse and back to Sue. She raised her brows a little as an act of encouragement to continue, for she felt he had something on his mind, felt he wanted to say something, but couldn't, or wouldn't. Or didn't dare, she added.

'Really, Jack', she said and she touched his arm, resting her hand on his arm. She had to fight the need to give him a meaningful squeeze, a comforting and yet meaningful stroke.

'It's, eh….well, something I have to work out by myself', he said. And he stared in the distance, thus missing the flash of regret in her eyes.

But it hadn't been the first time he had missed the signals. Whether it was on purpose or not.

'Okay, well, we won't keep you any longer', Sue said as she pulled away her hand. 'Bye, Jack.' And she walked away with Levi and Lucy following closely.

* * *

۩

* * *

Outside she exploded. Hands flying through the air as she vented her frustration. "_Can you believe it? One minute I'm having this lively chat with James, the next it's the hide and seek conversation with Hudson I've been having for weeks!_" 

Lucy nodded, expressing her sympathy. "_And all the time he just stands there, not saying a word._" She blew a strand of hair that fell over her nose and face away, sighing simultaneously. "_What is it that he wants?_"

Lucy shrugged. "ME NOT KNOW, _it would help if he would say something useful, instead of those non-descript lines he's blurting out._"

"TRUE" She ran a hand through her hair and let go of a breath she had unconsciously been holding. "_Am I difficult?_", she asked. Lucy frowned. "_What do you mean?_"

"_I'm beginning to think perhaps there's something about me that hinders a normal conversation._"

"PAH!, FUNNY YOU, J-A-M-E-S, HIM CONVERSATION NONE DIFFICULT."

"_Then what is it? Because I'm really confused right now._"

"_Not to mention agitated._"

"ANGRY ME? ME SORRY ME, _I didn't want to become angry, but somehow it's just…I don't know._" Lucy tapped her hand. "_It's okay. I don't mind._"

"HOME, WE GO WILL?" Lucy nodded.

"FIRST, CHURCH GO ME WANT, _burn a candle or two, for my parents and brothers._"

"_D-E-A-L"_

* * *

**A/N: **You can visit Michael Pimentel´s website on (www) michaelpimentel (dot) com 


	9. Chapter 9

**VII**

**J**ust after the morning service, he went into the church, to be safe from the cold outside for a few hours and warm up. Or at least try to warm up, for he never felt warm nowadays. He pushed open the massive oak wood doors with its ironworks, then he went through the next door, and then he was inside. He knew the Cathedral of St. Matthew the Apostle on Rhode Island Ave NW well, and most of the time he took a seat in one of the back booths where he was out of sight for others and had a comfortable, well at least more comfortable, seat. It was a long walk from where he usually resided, but at least he knew he had a place to go to.

The Byzantine-Romanesque Cathedral built like a Latin cross was despite its size (155 feet long and 136 feet wide at the transepts, with the majestic dome towering 190 feet) intimate. The many frescos and 'boxed' roofs gave the Cathedral an impression of grandeur, even though the building wasn't erected before 1893. Even though most US Presidents from 1895 onwards attended masses here, he could be there too. The Pastor acknowledged his presence, but did not speak much with him. After finding out Walter's business was not to find faith or any other divine matter, but instead just shelter for the day, he let him be under the condition not to hinder other churchgoers or make a mess out of it.

The Pastor could rest easily when it came to that. Respect for the church and its symbols was deeply rooted within him. He might not be a man of much faith anymore, he still acknowledged the mystic and its value to others, the meaning of places like this. In a word, he felt somewhat comfortable being here. It had been a part of his upbringing, perhaps not the best part, but a part nevertheless.

When he finally found his favourite place to sit, his legs sort of gave way, they couldn't go on. He slumped in the booth, his breath shallow and fast. Leaning back he closed his eyes as he felt hot and cold from one second to the other. Even though outside was freezing cold, he felt sweat on his forehead. He shivered and tried to warm himself to one of the church's heating radiators.

**

* * *

**

۩

* * *

The heels of her boots clicked as Sue walked through the left aisle to the chapel. It mixed with the other sounds of Levi's paws softly scratching over the tiles and the soft sounding Christmas Hymns that played through the church's audio-system. To her, it made no difference, she just knew the silence of a church, unless the choirs sang and the organ played, then she heard the music, felt the voices. She picked two candles out of a box and dropped two coins in the adjacent box. The lights of hundreds of other candles glowed golden on her features as she lit hers and placed them next to each other. Inwardly she said a silent prayer for her family and her loved ones. And for strength in whatever would come her way. Personally or work-related. Once again she silently admitted her wishes in both.

She stood there, watching the lights flicker and shine, feeling the warmth of those little lights warming her face. Alone they were small, together they had the intensity to light a whole chapel, and to fill it with their heat.

Lucy stood back, keeping a respectful distance as her friend stood there, keeping Levi with her. Sue turned towards her friend after the moment for herself and her thoughts. She smiled. "_Ready to go?_" Lucy nodded. "_My feet are killing me._" Sue looked down at her shoes: beautiful but not fit for walking for prolonged periods of time. "_Nice, but unpractical._" Lucy grinned. "_There's a law that prohibits gorgeous shoes from being practical_", she quipped. Then she looked at Sue's boots. "_I suppose your feet tells you the same?_" Sue shook her head while she wiggled her booted toe. "_These fit like the best, no problem._"

"_Let's get back anyway_", Lucy offered.

**

* * *

**

۩

* * *

Walter couldn't stop shivering, even though it felt as if he was burning away. His hands were quivering uncontrollably. His chest ached as if a hot rod was pierced through and someone was wiggling it to inflict unbearable suffering. He might not have studied much, but he knew he was gravely ill. Pneumonia or worse. He coughed and coughed, blood on his sleeve and hand as the echo bounced through the solemnly peaceful church.

The sound was so loud he, even though he was in the middle of a fitful moment, noticed two women were looking his way. He tried to stop the coughing and to make himself not heard nor seen, an idle attempt.

Lucy heard someone coughing so bad, it sounded terrible. She looked round and saw an old man, frail, fallen-in face, in old clothes slumped in a booth. His body rocked with every fierce cough. She frowned and nudged Sue. She pointed at him, and Sue looked to where she was pointing. 'That doesn't sound too good', said Lucy. Sue lifted her eyebrow. 'I have no idea how it sounds, but it looks terrible. Let have a look.'

'You sure it's safe?'

"MAN, HIM OLD HIM, _besides, we're trained to handle tough scenes right?_"

"RIGHT"

They walked over to where the man was sitting. Sue was there first. 'Are you okay, Sir?'

Walter looked up to the blond woman with the pretty face, etched with worry. He tried to smile, and was about to wave off her concern when another pain shot through his chest, he grimaced. The blonde woman looked at her dark friend. Their hands flew back and forth, like mime. Walter frowned, but then it dawned: this had to be this Sign Language he had heard about. One of them, he figured, should be deaf, his hunch was the Afro-American woman.

'I think I did catch a bad cold', he said to the blonde.

Sue saw his lips move, but the grown beard made it almost impossible to see anything. 'I'm sorry? What did you say?'

'I said, I must have caught a bad cold', he repeated and coughed again. Sue looked at Lucy. "HIM THINK COLD HIM", she said, while she mimed blowing her nose with her A-hand pulling forward off her nose in a double movement. "COLD HIM? _It's far more serious from what I can see_", Sue said. She looked at the man. 'What's your name?'

'Walter', he responded. '_Walter_?', she verified. He nodded. 'Walter, I'm Sue and this is Lucy', she said. He acknowledged them and closed his eyes temporarily. 'Walter? I think you have more than just a cold', she said as she tapped his arm. He opened his eyes, they were bleak and fragile. She motioned to Lucy to call for an ambulance. 'Walter? We're going to call an ambulance for you, okay?'

'Don't bother, miss, I'm old and I don't have…', he began. 'Nonsense', she said. 'You need help. And you are going to get it.' Walter rested his head against the woodwork, tired, exhausted and seriously short of air. 'Walter, how long have you been having this?', Sue asked him. He shrugged. 'Don't know, 'bout a year or two. This year it's worse.'

Unheard by Sue, an ambulance had pulled up to the church and two medics were coming their way. In the corner of her eye, she caught movement and looked up to see the two medics coming over. 'Who called?', one of them asked. 'I did', said Lucy. 'We're concerned about Walter here.' The medic mustered the old man in the booth. And he frowned a little as he looked back to the two well-dressed women.

Sue caught the look in their eyes. 'Before you will start, I will vouch for him.' She showed them her FBI Identification. That seemed to help, for they started to examine Walter.

'You're right, Miss…'

'Thomas.'

'Miss Thomas, he's in dire need of a hospital. Severe pneumonia, possibly worse. We have to get him to GWU immediately.'

'I'm sorry I didn't get that last part.'

'He needs to go to the hospital', one of them said, emphasizing every syllable, thus making it more difficult to read anything. Nevertheless, Sue knew what he said. 'Thanks, we'll be right behind you.' The medics helped Walter to get on the stretcher and were about to wheel him out when one of them said: 'I suppose one of you can join us and take a ride in the van.'

'That would be wonderful', said Sue. She looked at Lucy. "_Do you want to go, or should I go?_" Lucy shook her head. "ME FINE, YOU GO. HOSPITAL ME JOIN YOU WILL"

"D-E-A-L" The medics watched their interaction with raised brows, understanding nothing of what was being said. 'That is Sign Language, I think', said Walter. 'I think she is deaf', and he gestured at Lucy, who began to smile.

'Actually, her hearing is perfectly sound', said Sue, 'I'm the one who's Deaf.'

'But I thought you…', Walter began, but Sue shushed him. 'You need to rest now Walter, let your body relax. Talking is straining.'

And so, Walter was wheeled into the waiting ambulance as Sue stepped inside the van too, taking Levi with her. 'Uh, Miss, the dog?'

Sue looked at the medic. 'He's my hearing-dog, anywhere I go, he goes. He's my ears, lets me know when people are talking to me or when the phone rings, in other words: he's vital to me.'

'Right, well, you have to understand it's highly unusual to have pets with us.'

'He's not a pet, but a partner', Sue responded. The medic shrugged. 'Well, all right, for once.'

'Thank you', she said and she turned her attention to Walter and took his frail hand in hers. The doors closed and Lucy watched the van drive off.


	10. Chapter 10

**VIII**

**W**alter was wheeled inside the hospital with Sue and Levi following. One of the hospital staff came forward with a clipboard. Levi pawed her as she was called. Sue turned to see who was saying something. 'We need someone who will vouch for any costs being made, he's not insured.' Sue drew a face. 'Of course he's not, he's homeless.'

'That's why, Miss….'

'Thomas, Sue Thomas.' The man scribbled something down on his paper. 'What's the man's name? You relative?'

'No, and his first name is Walter, I don't know his last. I just saw he needed help and that's what he's going to get.'

'Sure', the man said as he filled in some other forms. 'Sign here.'

'I'll read first, if you don't mind.' The man rolled his eyes. 'We ain't going to start anything unless we know someone will vouch.'

'Of course you will. Even more because of this', she said annoyed with the man's behaviour and flashed her badge. 'Now, do what needs to be done and make sure Walter gets everything anyone else would get. I would hate to see an HHS investigation here for refusal.' The man's eyes grew a bit wider. 'You wouldn't…..'

'Depends on what you decide', Sue responded. Then she felt her Blackberry vibrate. She took it out of her pocket to check the caller: Lucy.

'Luce…'

'_Have you arrived yet?_'

'Yes, Walter is being treated, or rather…he could be any minute now.'

'_Trouble?_'

'Let's just say _someone_ needed to be reasoned to act', she said as she eyed the man. He smiled a thin, half-hearted smile. Then he hurried away.

'_I'll be over in about ten minutes, in your car, figured we couldn't leave it parked downtown._'

'Thanks, very considerate, I'll see you soon.' With nothing to do, and a nurse's prohibition to enter the ER further than the waiting-room she sat down and waited. Levi at her feet.

Shortly after, Lucy joined her. "W-A-L-T-E-R, HIM HOW?" Sue shrugged. "ME NOT KNOW, _they're working for a while now._" Lucy bit her lip, nodding. She sat down next to Sue and absently ruffled Levi's fur. "_Christmas shopping with a twist, right?_" Sue frowned. "WHY? HIM NEED HELP. YOU ME KNOW. AGREE YOU?"

"_I didn't mean I didn't want to do anything, if that's what you think.._"

'Oh', she said. 'I did, for a second.' Lucy smiled. 'That's what I thought.'

A man wearing a doctor's outfit approached. 'Are you here for Mr. Prescott?' Both women frowned. 'Who?'

'Walter Prescott…'

'Oh, yes we are.' The doctor frowned with their answer. Something Sue spotted. 'We called 911 when we saw his condition in St. Matthews, we're neither family nor relatives and he had not said his last name. That's why.' The doctor nodded. 'Alright, fair enough.' He pursed his lips, frowning a little. As if he was reluctant to say anything. 'Is it bad news?', Lucy tried.

'I'm afraid so, Miss….'

'Dotson, Lucy Dotson', she said and introduced Sue too. 'It seems Walter is very ill. Gravely ill in fact.' Sue watched intently, luckily the doc did face her, with enough lighting and, to top it off, a well mannered and clear pronunciation. It made it easier to follow what was being said. And what was being said made her feel sorry.

'I won't give you false hope, just as I have not given Walter any false hope: his lungs are seriously damaged by what we thought would be the pneumonia, he has a very weak heart due to previous infarcts and overall his body is giving up on him.'

'He's going to die, right?'

The doctor nodded. 'Yes. Optimistically we could give him two to three months. Realistically I think he will not make it till New Year's Eve. Perhaps not even through Christmas.'

'You said, what we _thought_ to be pneumonia', said Lucy. 'It is something else?'

'Lung cancer, stage four. The pattern is clear with what we know: coughing blood, pain in the chest. Pneumonia could have been possible, but we ran a blood-cell count and it's in his blood already. There's nothing we can do anymore except giving him painkillers.'

'Does he know?', Sue softly asked. The doctor nodded. 'It was the very first thing he asked: how long do I have left?' Sue felt, strangely enough, defeated by the news about someone she only just met and knew nothing about. Someone who, if fate hadn't put her in St, Matthews, would have never known. Just another anonymous person.

'Can we see him?'

'Yes, of course, since you are apparently the only ones around. We have no record of him, no known family and he's not very talkative about it too. I'll show you his room.' He turned round, and walked out followed by Lucy, Levi and Sue.

**

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**

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* * *

When they entered Walter's room he laid in bed, his eyes turned away looking towards the ceiling. He rolled his eyes back to them. 'The lady in red and her friend….' 

Sue smiled. 'How are you Walter?' He shrugged. 'Okay I think.'

'The doc told us some bad news…' His eyes shied away. 'I have heard bad news before…'

'But not like this.' His eyes rested on her again, a spark of the old intensity in them had returned. 'You don't know me.'

'We don't, no.'

'Then why would you care? I'm just a homeless man, no-one has ever done anything for me.'

'Then we're the first.' He stared at them. 'Why?', was all he asked. Sue took his hand in hers and gave it a comforting squeeze, she didn't say anything. Walter stared at their hands, and then he quickly turned his head, but Sue saw the glistening in the man's eyes just before he could shy them away.

'Why should there be a reason to do something for someone?', Sue asked him. He kept staring away from her. She tapped him gently on his arm. 'Walter, I'll have to see your face when you answer or say anything.' He turned to her. 'I haven't answered.' She smiled. 'I wouldn't know, now would I?'

He rested his head on his pillow. And minutes crept by without anything being said. Then he suddenly jolted upright. The suddenness of it caught both Sue and Lucy by surprise.

'My stuff!, where's my stuff?', he said frantically eyeing the room, his bed. 'What stuff, Walter?', Lucy asked. 'I got to have it back, it's mine, mine. It's all I have….please….'

Lucy shared a confused and worried look with Sue. 'I don't know where it is. What is it anyway, then we'll ask for it.'

Walter seemed to have drifted away in his own thoughts, the whites of his knuckles shone through for he was clenching the plaid with a sudden force, clinging to it as if it was the last thing to hold on. 'I'll go and ask a nurse', said Lucy and she got up. Sue stayed behind with Walter.

Once outside Lucy walked over to the receptionist with the ER. 'Excuse me, I'm with Mr. Prescott who was brought in, in room seven….'

The woman looked up from her screen. 'Yes?'

'He's worried about 'his stuff' and about getting it back. I don't know what he meant by that, but did he have any possessions with him before he was brought in?' The woman tapped something on the computer. 'Prescott, hmm, let me see…..' Her fingers rapped over the keyboard. 'There're two Prescotts, one Prescott, DHM, and one Prescott, W.'

'It's W. in room seven…'

'Ah, yes, you have to be down the hall, room 1.06, there they store stuff like clothing before handing it back to patients.'

'Thank you.'

A young male nurse, white tennis shoes and green clothing looked up when she rapped on the door. 'I was looking for someone who could help me with getting someone's possessions back.' The man smiled. 'You're looking at him.'

Lucy smiled back. 'Great, it's from Prescott, Walter, room seven…'

He got out of his chair and walked to a shelf and took a box. 'It ain't much, but there you go. Some old photographs and two medals.'

Lucy frowned. 'Medals?'

'Yeah, looked Military to me. I don't know much about them, but they seemed to be special.'

'Can I have a look?' He shrugged. 'You family ?' Lucy shook her head. He pursed his lips. 'Then why do you need the box?'

'We brought him in after we found him. Now he asks for his stuff.'

'I see, well, I don't know, if he permits you, then yeah, go ahead.'

Lucy opened the box, in it were yellowed photographs of young men in uniforms, laughing, showing guns, drinking bottles of beer. And two medals. The man was right in assuming they were something Military. Lucy recognized one of the medals, the Purple Heart.

'He was a veteran of some war. And got awarded for it. This one is a Purple Heart.'

'I thought so, that's for injuries right?' Lucy nodded. Then she closed the lid again. 'I'll take it back to him. Thanks for your help.'

**

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* * *

When she came back to Walter's room, he had calmed down a little, staring in the distance, with Sue sitting next to him. When he saw Lucy, Walter tried to get up, but Sue gently placed her hand on his shoulder. 'You have to rest, Walter.' 

'Did….did you find it?', he asked, his eyes pleading. Lucy nodded. She put the box on the table adjacent to his bed. 'It's all in here', she said as she shared a look with Sue. It was such a small box, both women both felt sorry for him, that whatever he had achieved in his life and everything that had happened before and after fitted in there, the reminiscents of a life that never blossomed.

Walter took the box and with trembling hands he lifted the lid of it and stared inside, his eyes checking if everything was indeed present. It was. He closed the lid again. He looked at both women. 'Thank you.' He got two smiles in return. Then his body cringed in a spasm as he began to cough fiercely. Out of the corners of his squeezed eyes tears started to drop, with such an intensity the pain ripped through his chest, lungs and his body. Lucy and Sue watched with horror as he fitfully slumped back onto his pillow. 'I'm going to ask a nurse if there can be something he can have to stop these attacks', said Sue as she got up. Wearily Walter stared at her as she left the room.

Outside she met the nurse who had taken care of him. 'I'm afraid there's very little we can do about those attacks', she said sympathetically. 'It would be better for him to be on oxygen with some medication, but even then he will still have them.'

'There's really nothing that will take away the pain?'

'The cancer and a couple of pneumonias over the years have damaged so much, every contraction, even breathing is painful. And with his frail heart, the doses of anaesthetics are limited. Too much will cause his heart to stop.' She wrote something down on a note. 'But I'll see what I can do for him.'

'Thank you.'

A little while later, when Sue had rejoined Lucy and Walter, the nurse and a doctor entered the room. 'We'll give you something to sleep Walter', said the doctor. He looked at the women. 'I'm afraid you have to leave, to give him rest.'

'We'll be off', said Lucy. They said goodbye to Walter and left.


	11. Chapter 11

**IX**

**T**he earlier magic of the snow covered streets, the decorations, had disappeared a little as they went back home. They shook the snow off their shoes and hung up their coats, silent. Inside it was warm, comfortable, cosy. The Christmas tree stood there, still fierce, magnificent. The atmosphere enshrouded everyone inside with how it should be in these times. Peaceful, an atmosphere of welcoming, loving and belonging.

As they sat down on the couch it was Lucy who voiced their thoughts. 'You know, things like this makes you appreciate what you've got. How much it means to belong, to have people around you love and who love you too.'

'I never knew Christmases other than being filled with family around. The times me and father just sat there, watching the tree. Nothing more, with mom cooking something special.'

She looked at her friend. "W-A-L-T-E-R, HIM NEVER KNOW FINISH, _it makes you sad to realize he may never get the chance to experience what we have._"

"_Maybe when he was young_", said Lucy. "MAYBE"

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The next day, she couldn't stop thinking of Walter. Her absent-mindedness attracted the attention of the others. 'Anything wrong?', Dimitrius asked. Sue looked at him. 'With me? No, I'm fine.'

'Then why do we all have the feeling there's something? Lucy isn't that cheerful, you're not….what happened?'

'It's just about someone we met that makes you realize how lucky we are.'

'Who?', Bobby inquired.

'His name is Walter Prescott and he's in GWU with lung cancer.' Bobby frowned. 'Then how on earth did you meet? You hang out in hospitals on Sundays?'

'No, we met him in St. Matthew the Apostle', said Lucy. The others looked quizzed. 'I think this needs to be told from the beginning', said Sue. 'Yes, preferably', said Myles.

'Lucy and I were out shopping and we decided to light a few candles in St. Matthews. That's when we met Walter. Lucy heard someone coughing so bad we decided to check on him. He said he had just a bad cold, but it seemed far worse. That's when we called an ambulance and he was taken to GWU where he was ultimately diagnosed with lung cancer, terminal.'

'Why didn't he go to hospital earlier?'

'Let's just say that was somewhat difficult, financially', Sue said.

'To cut to the chase, Walter is old, frail and homeless for god knows how long.'

'You mean you met a bum in a church and took him to hospital?', said Bobby.

'A _human being_, Mr. Manning, like you and me', Sue corrected him sternly.

'Well, for all we know he could be dangerous just the same.'

'He's well past his sixties and physically probably double that, he couldn't run even if he wanted to. He's a veteran but he's not dangerous, just old and alone. And dying.'

'Still, we could do a check on him, to make sure', Bobby offered. 'We don't have to, Sue's a very good judge of character', Jack said. "THANK YOU", she responded. "WELCOME", he answered. The others decided to go back to what they had been doing. Jack approached Sue's desk. She saw him coming and looked up.

'Yes?'

'You're planning to visit him after work?' She nodded. 'Mind if I join you?' She frowned. 'Why would you?' She straightened up to muster him. _Again the conflicting body language, the things left unspoken. What do you want?_

'I couldn't help being interested when I heard he was a veteran. Maybe if I talked to him we could find out more about him.'

'You are not going to interrogate him, Jack. I won't permit that…..'

'No, no, it's not that. I just like to meet him, that's all.' Sue pursed her lips. 'No hidden agenda?' He shook his head. "HIM ME TALK, PROMISE"

'You're not supposed to be somewhere else?'

'You mean Ally?' She nodded. 'No, well, yes, originally. But she cancelled.'

'So I am second best…' He frowned. _What?_

'Excuse me?'

'Never mind, it's nothing, forget what I said.'

'No, no, I will certainly not. You never say stuff just like that.' She looked away from him to her screen. He touched her arm. 'Is there something wrong, Sue?'

She shrugged. 'I don't know, is there?' He narrowed his eyes. 'What happened to us?', he said. Her eyes flew upward to meet his, and he saw something smouldering inside them. 'What do you mean, to _us_?'

'This, precisely this. You're different, Sue. Not the way I know you. Haven't been for a while too.' She looked away. 'I'm still who I am, nothing else.'

'No, that's not true and you know it.'

'Excuse me?'

'I said, it's not…..'

'I did get what you _said_, Jack, it's _what_ you said that surprises me.' She turned towards him, and folded her arms in front of her chest. 'Care to explain?'

'There's something changed, and I can't put my finger on it. You, you're different……' He could see she was about to interrupt him. 'Let me explain, before you jump in.'

'To me it seems, at least the last weeks, there's a gap between us, personally I mean.'

'A gap…'

'Yes, between you and me. And what struck me yesterday was the liveliness between you and this other guy.'

'That _other guy_ as you call him, is James. We met earlier and had a nice conversation.'

'Seemed quite a conversation to me….'

Her eyes narrowed. 'And what do you mean with that?'

'Nothing, just stating a fact here.'

'You have been noticing very carefully I might add.'

He shrugged. 'I was standing three feet away….'

'You know Jack? What I distil out of all this, your choice of words, your attitude, is envy, you feeling left out yesterday.'

'Not only yesterday, but earlier too. I don't know…..you've been cool for a while. To me, anyway.'

Her eyes burned into his. 'What?!'

'What, you don't think so?', he said, only making things worse. 'No, Jack, I don't. In fact….', she began, her voice angry and sharp. 'Forget it…..I'm off.' Then she got up, grabbed her coat and summoned Levi to come with her, leaving behind a perplexed Jack and worried team members. 'Wow, didn't see that one coming….', he said.

'Touchy', Bobby commented. 'It must be very dear to her.'

'If only you knew', Lucy responded, angry herself. 'Now if you'll excuse me, I have some damage repair to do.'

She caught up with her when Sue was just about getting into the lift. Her pent up tears glistened in the corners of her eyes. Lucy rubbed her friend's back. "YOU OKAY?" She shook her head. "_What's wrong with me?_"

"_There's nothing wrong with you, Sue._"

"_Then why does it turn out to be like this every time?_", she said, her lower lip trembling. "_One minute he gives a compliment, the next he blames me for being difficult and hostile._"

"_I wish I knew, sweetie, but I know he does not want to hurt you._"

"_Yet he does, Luce, he does._"

"ME HIM TALK YOU WANT?" She shook her head. "NO, NOT YET"

"HOSPITAL YOU?" She nodded. "I'll be around too, I'll meet you there. D-E-A-L?"

"D-E-A-L...L-C-Y? THANK YOU, TRUE FRIEND YOU"

When Lucy returned, Jack approached her. 'Is she okay? Did you talk to her?'

'No and yes.'

'Come again?'

'No, she's not okay, and yes, I did talk to her.'

'What's wrong with her? I mean…'

'Gee, let me think….hmmm…there's nothing wrong with _her_…..'

'Then what is it? It feels like there's a wall building between us.'

'You know, I'm very tempted to start a lecture, but I promised her not to. But what I do want to say is: you need to talk. With the emphasis on Talk.' He nodded, rubbing his hand over his chin. 'You think I could come 'round tonight?'

'Under the circumstances, I don't think that's such a good idea.'

'Right…..what do you want me to do?'

'I want you to think, Hudson,' she said and tapped her finger on his head. 'Think and make up your mind up there. You're smart enough.'


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: It has been a while since I've posting anything, but it would be a shame to leave it hanging here, even though adding to a story that has started out as a christmas one on the last day of January is somewhat, well, odd. But then again, I do not care much for rules and regulations, and this one is almost done. **

**Enjoy, once again, thanks for reading and leave a review or personal thought on your way out to reality.**

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**X**

**T**he surprise was clearly visible on his face when she came in. 'You're back?'

She nodded and she placed the bottle of grape juice she bought on the table, together with another box. 'You didn't expect me to come back, did you?' He shook his head.

'But here I am, and I brought you something,' she said and pointed at the box. 'Go ahead, open it, it's for you.' She saw his hesitation and she encouraged him to pick up the box. So he did. He opened it and took out a robe. He just stared at it.

Then he looked at her. She nodded. 'I thought the least I could do is to give you something to stay warm in while you're here. It sure beats the hospital pyjamas.' His fingers felt the soft cloth, and he looked up at her. 'I….I don't know what to say…..'

'You could say Thank you…' she offered, smiling.

'Why are you doing all this for me? I don't understand…..'

'You don't have to understand, just enjoy it.'

'But….why?'

'You look like a broken record, Walter, you're repeating.'

'You mean sound like one….'

'Not to me.' He frowned and then a smile, a very hesitant smile was coming through. Sue had the feeling he somehow would not show too much of himself, an act of self defence she thought, worn in by the years living on the streets where softness was absent, yet he was lowering this shield ever so slightly.

'I….I'm still confused about all this, one minute I'm on the street, the next in, well, heaven…..' Sue began to laugh. 'Well, this is still a hospital, so I'm not that sure about the heaven-part.'

'Is….is your friend coming too?' he asked, almost shyly. Sue nodded. 'Lucy is on her way here.' That seemed to cheer him up. 'I still can't believe you are doing all this for me, buying things, visiting me. Don't you have a day job?'

'Yeah, I have, but afterwards I can go here, anywhere I want, if work permits.'

'Sue, it was, wasn't it?' She nodded. 'Can I ask you something? You don't have to answer if you don't want to…'

'Sure, ask anything you want.'

'What kind of work can you do when you're deaf?' Sue smiled. 'Pretty much anything you would want to do, or hate to do for that matter.' Walter nodded, grasping what she had said and processing it inwardly. 'So, you do what you want?'

'You mean, for work?'

'Yeah…'

'Yes, I do what I always wanted to do. And I got the opportunity to do it.'

'What…do you do? If I may ask?'

'I work with the FBI', she said. She saw how uncertainty and perhaps even mistrust crept in his eyes, probably due to previous, unfaithful encounters with law enforcement, she figured. She placed her hand over his, she felt relieved he didn't pull back. 'I'm not here to do anything to you, I'm here because I care, it has nothing to do with my job, Walter, trust me.'

'Oh, okay.'

'No, honestly, Walter, nothing whatsoever.' He took the robe again. 'Do you think it will fit?'

She got up. 'I had to take a little bit of a gamble on the size, but we'll find out won't we?'

'You mean now? Here?'

Sue nodded as she held the robe in front of him, mustering the size. 'Unless you're shy in the presence of a woman.' Levi gave a soft bark. 'And a dog,' she added.

'Eh, I don't know…'

'You know what? I'll ask the nurse first if you're allowed to do so, then, afterwards you'll try it, with or without us present. D-E-A-L?'

'What was that last part?'

'I said deal, fingerspelled.'

'Like in sign language, or something?'

'Yes, in ASL. My language.'

'But….I thought English is your language, you speak it all the time…'

'True, but I consider English to be my second language, like a foreigner. My native language is ASL, American Sign Language.'

'Oh, I see….wow.'

'I'm sorry?'

'I said 'wow'.' She smiled.

* * *

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* * *

Then, Levi pricked up his ears and got up, looking at the door. Sue turned to see what was happening. 'Hey, Luce.'

"GOOD EVENING" she said, the heel of her right bent hand, palm facing forward, tapping twice against the thumb side of the left open hand she held across her chest, palm facing down. 'Hi, Walter, how are you?', she asked as she knelt down to ruffle Levi's fur.

'Sue bought me a robe', he said, like a child who has been given a most precious gift and wants to share it with the whole world. 'And, do you like it?' He nodded.

'I was just about trying to get him to put it on, but apparently, he's shy in the presence of women….', Sue joked. Lucy smiled. 'Don't let her get to you, Walter, just put it over your pyjamas. After all, that's what a robe's for. Miss Thomas here just likes to tickle men every now and then. Especially handsome men.'

'Lucy!' She pulled an innocent face. 'What? You're not saying Walter here is not a good looking man?' Sue rolled her eyes. 'Every now and then, she just talks nonsense. This is one of those moments. Don't pay attention to it.' Walter had watched their interaction with a soft light of joy in his eyes, enjoying the moment, their playful banter.

'So, did you sleep well last night?', Lucy asked.

'Right after you left, the docs gave me something.' He grimaced as pain once again shot through his chest. 'You're still in pain, aren't you?', Sue softly asked.

'I've had worse.'

'In war, you mean…..'

He looked at them surprised. 'Yeah….how did you know?'

'That would be me,' Lucy said. 'When I went to collect your belongings the man who had it stored said that there were some medals in the box and some photo's. Nothing else really.'

'You looked in my stuff….'

'I must admit I got curious after seeing such a small box, I thought it was really small and wanted to check if it indeed was so little. That's when I saw the medals and a photo.' She took Walter's hand. 'I'm sorry I just went through your belongings, that was wrong of me, I should've asked your permission…..'

He shrugged. 'Everything was in it, it's okay. You've been so nice to me, I can't be mad.'

Lucy smiled to him. 'Thank you.'

'So, you've seen them….'

'The medals you mean?' He nodded. 'There was not much else in it was there?' Lucy shook her head, a sympathetic smile, feeling sorry. He waved it off. 'No need to feel sorry, I made a mess of it, well partially anyway.'

'We're not here to judge,' said Sue. He open the drawer of the small closet near his bed and took out the box. He placed it on his lap and opened it.

'I don't know if you recognized them, but this is the Purple Heart, and this one is a Bronze Star.' He held the medals up for them to see. 'Can I take a closer look, Walter?' asked Sue. He gave her the medals. 'Korea,' he said.

'I'm sorry?'

'The Korean War.' Sue did not get it. "K-O-R-E-A" Lucy helped.

'Oh, Korea, now I get it,' she said. Her right 'K' hand touched near the outer corner of her right eye, palm facing in, and twisted the hand forward with a double movement. "KOREA"

Both Lucy and Walter repeated her, naturally, Walter's attempt was far from perfect, but Sue was nevertheless warmed with his gesture. 'Yes, that's very good, Walter.'

'I may not know much about Military medals and all, but I know the Purple Heart is something you get for injuries, right?'

'Yes, Chosin Reservoir, December 1950.'

'I didn't get the first part, what reservoir?' Sue asked looking at Lucy who shrugged. 'I'm afraid my knowledge of Korean geography is somewhat limited to Seoul.'

Walter smiled. 'I never heard of it before, but ever since, it's carved in me. Literally.' He pulled up the legs of his pyjamas, revealing a nasty scar. Both Sue and Lucy shivered. 'I got more, but you get the idea what shrapnel can do to you.'

'That's where you got the medal for?'

He nodded. 'Nothing brave about it. We were on the western side of the Reservoir and the Chinese wanted it too. Three days after Christmas Eve they raided us.' He rolled down the legs again and stared at his hands. 'Lost many of my buddies right there and then.'

'I'm so sorry,' said Sue, placing a hand on his. He looked up, his eyes expressing acquiesce. 'What can you do about it? It's war, things happen.'

'Those men on the pictures….'

'Most of them are dead, some of them still there somewhere….'

'My god…'

* * *

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'That other medal is a Bronze Star, for bravery,' he huffed, cynical, his eyes thousands of miles away, as if he was there again. Reliving the horror. He was silent for several minutes.

Then he pointed at a young looking, quite handsome man on the picture he held. 'That's me, in better days.' Both women took a closer look. "NOT BAD" Sue said, "HANDSOME YOU"

Walter looked puzzled. 'What did you say?' Sue smiled. 'I said you look handsome.'

'All those signs mean handsome?' Sue shook her head. 'No, I said, 'not bad', then I signed 'handsome' which in fact is the signs 'Face' and 'Clean' together.'

'Oh, I see...complex.' Sue squinted her eyes but then she understood. 'Yes, ASL, like any other language, is complex.' Sue studied the other men's faces. Each in the prime of their life, laughing into the lens, confident, untouched by the terror yet to come. She couldn't shake of the chilling idea most of them had been killed, or were still missing. No loved ones around, no grave to go to…..

'Yep,' he concluded. 'Those gooks got us pretty good.'

'What happened afterwards?'

'I got hit by shrapnel when I was busy hauling one of my buddies out of the line of fire. My back, my legs, they were all torn to pieces. It burned like hell. The MASH took care of the first things, then I was shipped to Japan for more surgery. After that, I went back to the US.' He shifted his weight in bed for a more comfortable position. 'My legs are as stiff as a column and my back is still to pieces. I never fully recovered.'

'Your wife, how did she take it?' He smiled. 'How did you know?' Sue pointed at the picture where his hand, resting on the shoulder of another man, showed a ring on his finger. 'Don't forget, we work with the FBI, we're trained to notice things like that,' she said with a wink.

'I should have known…..Anyway, she had run off with someone else when I got home after those months in recovery. Never kept contact again.' He stared out of the window.

'In a way, I'm still there, back in those grassy hills, in the birch woods, in the snow. It never left me, there's not one single day I don't think about Korea,' he said and he gestured at his legs. 'If I tried to forget, these suckers did remind me anyway. So I began drinking to forget, to be numb for the pain. After that, I lost my job, my pension. And landed on the streets.'

He sighed, which triggered a series of bad coughs. Both Lucy and Sue shot up to help him. He waved them off. 'There's nothing to be done, the docs said. A matter of weeks and I'm gone, perhaps days…'

'Don't talk like that, Walter,' said Sue. He shrugged. 'It's the truth.'

'You're not afraid?' asked Lucy. 'No, not really. I've seen death's ugly face in Korea, and here on the streets too. Nothing the Grim Reaper throws at me will scare me.'

'But you're dying, Walter.' He shrugged. 'It's long overdue…..' He closed his eyes and laid his head on the pillow.

'I'll finally be together with the friends I lost.' A smile crept over his face as he relived parts of those days gone by. 'Finally together…..'


	13. Chapter 13

**XI**

_When courage has gone_

_So has hope_

_Without it there is_

_No chance of recovery_

_With courage_

_You can move on_

_Because without it_

_You'll say goodbye to hope_

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**S**omehow, someway, the human mind is capable of clinging to the tiniest of straws. The flimsiest of possibilities of improvement. Even when rationality offers the insight the situation is as it is, deep, deep down inside we're still hoping for a small miracle. If only…..

It's amazing how much strength one can pull out of hope. Perhaps that's the miracle, subconsciously fighting a disease, going on physically when mentally you're ever more in despair.

Miracles.

In real life, miracles are more a product of the imagination, nevertheless offering support and strength for those in need. Not that miracles do not happen, there have been amazing tales. People have been cured miraculously, or escaped unharmed for the most dreadful of circumstances. In a word, amazing tales that defy any logic, if it is attempted to explain. But even though they happen, those tales are rare.

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Overnight his condition had worsened. The medication was insufficient to suppress the pain, and therefore the doses was increased. With it the chances of cardiac arrest increased. It was basically a question of waiting before time ran out on Walter 'Bear' Prescott. The call the hospital had made to Sue and Lucy the next day gave them little hope. Not that they had any hope he would get better, or get through. He wouldn't be better, not even feeling a little better than the previous day. Only pain relief would attribute to feeling not so bad.

But not so bad does not mean feeling well.

'What can you tell us about his condition?' Lucy informed over the phone.

'His overall condition? I'd say it's sliding down the slope. Has been since he was admitted Sunday. I'm sorry, but it's even worse than we anticipated.'

'It'll be over soon….'

'Very soon, perhaps even this week. We simply don't know, that's the difficult part,' the doctor said. 'And that brings me to, and I have never found it easy to ask, what about arrangements….have you thought about it?'

Lucy glanced at Sue who was combing Levi. 'Eh, not yet, we only met Sunday, and it's not the first thing one thinks about.'

'Understandably of course. I just meant there are standard arrangements in cases like this.'

'I know, but they usually are so basic.'

'It's expensive, I'm afraid, and although we're a hospital, we're not a charity fund.'

'I know, I know,' said Lucy. 'We haven't discussed this, yet. Maybe after we had a little tête-à-tête later we could go over all the possibilities?'

'I'll see if I can schedule you in for later this afternoon, Miss Dotson. We'll be in touch.'

After Lucy hung up, Sue stopped combing Levi. 'The hospital?' she verified. Lucy nodded.

'He's slipping away. They wanted to know if we had made arrangements.'

'As in a funeral…' Lucy nodded.

'We haven't….'

'No.'

'It's not exactly the first priority when you meet people,' said Sue. 'My words exactly.' She sat down next to Levi and ruffled his fur. 'But, we can go over all sorts of options later, they're expecting us this afternoon.' Sue stared at the comb in her hands, biting her lower lip, something she always did when she was thinking. Lucy got her attention.

"YOU THINK WHAT?"

"_Christmas dinner_"

'That's Sunday, we got time.'

'I know, but I was thinking maybe we could be having an earlier one, you know…'

Lucy lips parted into a smile. "I AGREE."

'I'll see what the possibilities are. Details at lunch?'

"D-E-A-L_"_


	14. Chapter 14

**XII**

**I**t was somewhere later that morning when Sue felt her Blackberry™ vibrate. She opened the message: Jack. She frowned. But began to read nevertheless.

"Sue. First, I owe you an apology. I stepped out of line yesterday, something I regret. Secondly, I realize my behaviour Sunday was inexcusable too. Thirdly I heard some rumour from Lucy about Walter with something about Dinner, and wanted to say that I would really like to meet him. Guess Military genes acting up. And fourth: I would like to invite you for either coffee and/or lunch. Jack"

_What to do?_ She would be lying if she would say his excuses didn't touch her. But to respond too enthusiastic would perhaps indicate she was not that affected and eager to make it up. _Like I'm the problem lately_, she thought.

This was a bit of a ticklish situation. To ignore it would only make matters less easy, but it would be a strong message she was fed up with it. To be too eager was not favourable too, it had to be somewhere in the middle. And moreover she and Lucy had an appointment for lunch to go over the details for their plans with Walter. She decided to consult Lucy first.

'Luce, I'm kind of balancing on an issue here,' she said.

'What's the problem?'

'We're having this lunch later, but I got a message from Jack where he offers me lunch too.'

'Ah, two free meals. Don't know about the Weight Watchers though,' she quipped, smiling.

Sue rolled her eyes. 'No serious, what should I do? He wants to meet Walter, talk and what not. He even said sorry for things lately….'

'So, what's the problem, then?'

'I don't know what to do. It's such a sudden change in things, it has caught me by surprise. I mean, I want to have lunch, sure. But at the same time I want to make it clear things are not that easily forgotten. Plus there's our appointment.' Lucy deliberated for a few seconds. 'I think I would take this opportunity. And then say what you really think. And give him no other option than to speak out.'

'And our lunch?'

'We'll see each other later today anyway, so missing lunch isn't that insurmountable.'

'Right…okay, well. I guess I have to find a way to get the message across.'

'You'll find one, Sue. NONE DIFFICULT,' she signed the last part.

Back at her desk she stared at the blank screen, not really sure how to start. Finally, after several attempts and modifications she came up with her emailed response.

"Jack. In all honesty I must tell you, your message came as a surprise. And left me with several questions about it. You've mentioned your interest in Walter before, and back then I wasn't sure about your intentions. Something I'm still not, but I give you the benefit of the doubt this time. I need to know just why. Secondly, although I appreciate and accept your apologies, I do need to emphasize it doesn't mean we're back to where we were. I want to cancel my lunch with Lucy in favour of your offer but only if we, and that means both me and you, are going to open and honest to each other. Sue."

It didn't take long before she got a reply.

"Sue. My intention was never to offer an apology and act as if nothing has happened afterwards. There have been a lot issues and Lucy has made me think last night, to be honest. About a lot of things. About you and me, and the distance that has grown. Something I realized I was responsible for. I'm not implying things will be okay after this, but I want to take the first steps towards reaching that goal. I'm ready and willing to talk things out. Jack."

She reread the message a couple of times, before she sent her final note.

"Jack. Thank you for being honest and willing to work things out. Since you're offering, I'll leave the arrangements up to you. I'll see you in a bit. Sue."

She suddenly felt nervous. It could go any way, really. Ranging from good to bad and all in between. Previous occasions had left her weary over the outcome, sceptical perhaps, but nevertheless, deep down she hoped for the best. She sat musing for a while before she turned her attention to her work again.

**

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**

**۩**

**

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**

Levi's paw made her look up.

'Hi,' said Jack. 'Hi,' she responded.

"YOU READY?" She nodded. He handed over her coat. "THANK YOU".

'Where are we going?' she asked after they had left the office. She had decided to try and be like they had been. Surprisingly she found out it still wasn't difficult to do.

'You like Modern and Italian?'

'I've been known to,' she responded as she pressed the button for the lift. 'What exactly does Modern mean? Cooking-related that is…'

'I have no idea, to be honest,' he said as they stepped inside. 'You're sure it's safe?'

'It got four-and-a-half stars out of five in the Washingtonian 100 Very Best Restaurants Guide, ranking fourth.'

'Hmm, I'm tempted. Have I ever heard of it?' He began to smile, she noticed it even reached his eyes. 'I'm not too sure you've _heard_ of it, but it's the Palena Café, on Connecticut Ave.'

She had to smile a little with his quip. 'The Café? Not the Palena?'

'It's in the same building…'

'Hmm…'

'Hey, December is an expensive month, so is Palena. No, more than that: it's _very_ expensive. I thought it wouldn't be too smart to max out all my credit cards before the 24th.'

'Good thinking,' she said.

They descended, silently. Both a little relieved a bit out the old 'spark' had returned. It would help to make things to come more easily. Not necessarily easy.

**

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**

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* * *

They had found a spot near the windows, he sat on the side the table with his back to the wall while he faced the windowpanes, she was on the other side of the table. The place was filled, but not packed, the noise not more than chatter, not noisy or with distracting sounds. Their place, and where he sat, was excellent for her to be able to have a conversation with sufficient light streaming in.

'Is this place good?' he had asked just before they sat down. 'Perfect.'

'Good, I had hoped to get a good place, since this is a non-reservation place. Seems we were lucky.' She nodded. 'Of course I could have asked for a place like this, you know, trading places…'

'Jack, it's perfect.' She noticed his slight nervousness. Join the club, I'm nervous too.

'So,' he said.

'So,' she responded. Then they both started to say something. "SORRY," he said, "YOU FIRST?"

"_No, you go ahead_," she said.

'First, I'd like to say Thank You for joining me now,' he said as he signed _Thank You_. 'The reason I wanted to have lunch with you was, apart from eating superb food, to try to break through the situation that has been building. Between us, I mean.' She pursed her lips, and nodded, encouraging him to go on.

'That, and finding out what exactly you and Lucy are up to.' She smiled. 'I knew there was more. But you're right, things need to be solved.' He nodded.

'It was something Lucy said, yesterday, after we had…well…a fight really,' he said. 'I remember saying things between us were different, not as they used to be.'

'I remember.'

'What I meant to say with that, was that there's almost something of a physical barrier between us. That I did not understand how.'

A waiter interrupted by bringing the menus. "DRINK WHAT YOU?" he asked as the waiter went away to get someone's order. "_Nothing alcoholic, water I think, or Tonic._"

"_You want to order?_" She nodded. The rich, Italian and Modern-Fusion inspired menus left them with so much choices, it was a random choice basically. 'I don't recognize much on the menu, I'm afraid, and the things I do I haven't eaten before.'

'I know what you mean. Must be the Midwestern roots. Conservative in choice of food.' She smiled, remembering their discussions.

After she had placed their orders she turned her attention to him again. 'You were getting started just before the break,' she said light-hearted, 'it would be a shame to stop, now would it?'

He chuckled and took a sip of his Pellegrino. "TRUE" He sat back a little, a glimmer of joy in his eyes. 'This,' he said, 'exactly this I've missed lately.' She frowned a little. 'Missed what? The decent food?' He shook his head, smiling. 'No, this. A lively conversation, one we used to have so much. Teasing, mocking, joyful.' She bit her lip 'Yes, it has been a while.'

'And I never figured out why this had changed. Why you had become different.' She squinted her eyes. 'Me? Different?'

'Yeah, at least; that's what I thought.' She looked at him, intently. He had started to retreat again, wandering off, not getting to the point. She feared it would lead to yet another fruitless conversation. Difference this time would be the distance would never be bridged again. _Its either now, or never._

'Jack,' she began.

'Yes?'

'The reason why I said Yes to your invitation was my impression you were willing to speak out, and that I could speak out.' He frowned a little. 'We are talking aren't we?'

'Yes and no. Yes: we're talking but No: we're not getting anywhere.'

His eyes darted away to the window before he looked at her again. She put her glass down and took a deep breath. 'I want this to stop, Jack.' He seemed to be startled. 'Excuse me?'

She closed her eyes for a second, trying to find the right words to go on. 'What I want from you is openness, clearness about what you want, Jack. With me. I feel like I'm on leash, I don't know what to think, to do. I feel restricted by you.'

He seemed baffled. 'I never withheld you from anything did I?'

'Not physically, emotionally. I wanted this conversation to be honest and straight. So I will be honest. I find this extremely difficult to say, without getting too emotional, but I nevertheless will try.' She paused and took a sip of her, her motions shaky.

'Do you want me, Jack? Or is it Allie or someone else….I need to know….'

He stared at his hands, moments went by without any response. Something broke, it felt, within her and she put her serviette down and was about to get up to leave when his hand was on hers.

'I thought for a long time, Allie was the one for me. Then came you, and I forgot about her and just thought of you. Recently, when she came back, I…I didn't know anymore. I couldn't decide. With her it all felt so comfortable, we know each other through. I don't know...conflicting emotions, I guess.' He looked at her. 'What I never wanted was to put a wall between us.'

'Would you understand when I told you that your behaviour did build that same wall?' she said.

'I think I would.'

'I felt restricted, with you dropping by every time. But you never gave the impression you had made a decision, I never felt it was because of me you were there. Just happening to drive by, or be in the same place. Like this weekend. You have any idea how that felt?'

He shook his head. 'It hurt, and it made me uncertain. Even reluctant to go out and do the things I wanted to do, knowing I might bump into you. It felt like you were playing games, keeping me at bay.'

'No, no, I never would.'

'What you wanted and what you did are two different things, Jack. It happened.'

'I'm sorry.'

'You're sorry?'

'Yes.' She bit her lip shaking her head. 'It's not enough, Jack. Not to make up for everything.'

'You want me to choose…' She looked him in the eyes. 'Yes, Jack. I want you to choose. I want certainty, clearness and a chance to get on with my life. Because right now….I…'

He stirred in his food, thinking what to say next. He put his fork down and looked her in the eyes. 'Okay.'

'Okay what?'

'Since you're so honest, I cannot be anything else than to be honest too.' He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. 'I was jealous.' She looked puzzled.

'When you were with James together, in Hecht's. I saw how much chemistry there was and I grew jealous. I'm not proud of it, but I did.'

She swallowed hard. 'Jealous…'

'Yes.' He smiled a little smile. 'Ironic isn't it? I'm more or less involved, or so I thought, with someone and I grow jealous because of seeing you with another man. I suddenly felt I had to be that man. No more than that: I _wanted_ to be that man.'

'It added to my confusion. Because for the last couple of weeks I felt the old spark between me and Allie was missing. Comfortable, yes. Attraction, no. And then I had this pang of jealousy together with the growing fear of losing the bond I had with you. Yes, fear. I had conflicting thoughts, on my way to Allie I drove by your place to see if I could see you. And Saturday I once again took a detour, subconsciously perhaps.' He tapped her hand.

'Sue, I never felt the same around Allie as I felt when I saw you. Not the same intensity. That's why I dropped by so often.' He sighed. 'I never knew you felt hindered by me, or uncertain. If I had known I had stopped. I just needed the conformation that I did feel different around you than with Allie.'

She didn't know what to say or do. She laughed a nervous laugh as she stroked a strand of hair behind her ear. 'I'm sorry, did I embarrass you?' he asked, looking worried.

'No, not at all, it's just…..'

'A bit of a shock?'

'Yeah, you could say that. I, eh…I don't know…all sorts of things I'm feeling now.' She looked at him. 'Does Allie know all this?' He shook his head. 'No, not yet. But my guess is she's expecting something. She said I acted differently lately, absent-minded, not the way we used to be. I guess Lucy's remark set things in motion yesterday.'

'What _did_ she say, anyway?'

'She wanted me to think about just what I wanted. Or better, _who_ I wanted.'

'And now you're sure…'

'Yes.'


	15. Chapter 15

**XIII**

**A**ctions speak louder than words, a proverb tells us. Well, not always. Words can be equally powerful, equally devastating, or equally building as any action.

Words have triggered wars, spread mayhem and hatred. Words have also let democracy blossom, ended inequality and spread hope. Cynically one could say Words are the Weapons of Mass Destruction. Optimistically one could say Words can be the fertilizer from which good things will grow.

It depends.

What makes us different from animals is the ability to use language to express ourselves, to communicate. Albeit in the animal worlds there are complex structures of communicating, through gestures, sounds, behaviour; nothing can match the human model. Many animals act on instinct, their genes drive them to act or perform the rituals in which they communicate.

Humans are conscious of the meaning, the reasoning of things. Of course, we act, we do things without thinking about it.

The difference is: we can think about it if we want to. To analyse it. In words we can put as much meaning as we want, or as little for that matter. For just the moment it is spoken out, or for generations to come.

A Latin Proverb, attributed to the Roman Philosopher Vergilius is perhaps the best illustration.

**Vox Audita Perit, Littera Scripta Manet.**

The Spoken Word Evaporates, What Is Written Remains.

**

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**

۩

* * *

It's only two vowels and one consonant, Yes.

Yet this one syllable, even though it was spoken, had more meaning, carried more weight than its modest appearance could ever tell. It was what is a watershed to rivers on a continent, the critical (even though not palpable) line across land (e.g. mountains) where water is forced to go a fixed way, it cannot go the other way, gravity laws prohibit. Would it be flowing directly _on_ that virtual line it could go two ways, Right or Left, North or South, or West or East.

Yes, in this case was such a line. Anticipation, hopes and more depended on the way it would go. On what would come next. A direction had to be chosen. A critical line passed. Once chosen it could never be different or reversed.

**

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۩

* * *

He took her hand. 'I hope my indecisiveness did not close options once available, or caused things not to be reversible. I would like to see an 'Us' in the future, Sue. You and me.' He paused to scan her eyes. 'That is, if you're still willing to give me a chance.'

_How on earth could she describe what she felt now, the roller coaster of feelings, emotions and thought that ran through her?_ She didn't trust her voice anymore to respond so she relied on her natural language, her native tongue. The language of her heart and her soul.

"_You've opened your heart to let me in. I could not ask for more._"

His fist circled on his chest. 'Sue, I'm sorry for the past weeks. But I needed to know, I needed to be sure.' She nodded as her thumb caressed his hand. "ME UNDERSTAND"

'I finally understand,' she continued after she felt calm enough to use her voice. 'It does not make the past weeks easier, but at least the uncertainty and the hurting have gone.'

He let go of her hand and gave her a small smile. "WE DO WHAT WILL?"

"WE CONTINUE SLOW WILL"

'I think that is perhaps best,' he acknowledged.

'It needs time to sink in, the idea, the times gone by, the idea of the future,' she smiled. 'I hope you understand.'

'I do. I don't want to rush. I don't even feel the need to. I know what I want and that has given me peace of mind.'

'We're on the way back to where we used to be,' she added. 'And from then one it can only get better.'

They sat for a while, silently, each lost in their own thoughts. Then his lips curled into a smile as he stared out of the window. She tapped his hand. "FUNNY WHAT?"

He looked at her. 'I couldn't stop thinking of James.'

'Ah,' she said as her eyes began to twinkle a little. 'Now we're on our way back, does this mean he's out of the picture? Inquisitive minds want to know….you know.'

'You mean jealous minds want to know, Jack Hudson, for you that's almost the same.'

'Well?' he asked, a boyish grin on his face.

'I'm holding all options open.'

'Hmm, competition. I guess I need to take care of that too.'

'Don't you dare, Hudson,' she protested smiling. 'That we're on our way back doesn't mean you have any rights or privileges, yet. I've seen an indecisive side of you, I don't know if I could handle a jealous one on top of that.'

'To expand on that, do I need to be worried about Walter?'

'Only about the medical side of it, although worry isn't necessary, all things considered. He's old and dying. His condition has worsened overnight, and he wasn't doing good for starters.'

'I heard something about having an earlier Christmas Dinner from Lucy.'

'She already told you?'

'Well, let's say Miss Dotson is having difficulties to stay quiet whenever she's really enthusiastic about something,' he said. Sue rolled her eyes somewhat. 'Mildly put it comes down to that, yes,' Sue said.

'That, plus some outstanding inquiring techniques from me, led to useful information.'

'I think that last phrase falls under the category 'pushing the envelope',' she smirked as she took as sip of her Tonic. He held up his hands. 'Okay, skip that last part. It was a bit…how would you say…'

'Conceited?' she offered, an impish grin on her face.

'Well….' They both laughed, and it felt as if they had levelled the wall that had grown in previous weeks. Both seemed aware of it, for they held each other's gaze, and both shied their eyes away with a knowing smile.


	16. Chapter 16

**XIV**

**T**he second she walked in, Lucy could see her friend's change. A weight had been lifted of her shoulder, it almost seemed as if she walked more upright because of it. She felt relief wash down. Whatever had been discussed, it had been good. She decided to ask.

Sue sat down at her desk, and was moving things around on her desk, distracted. Her thoughts millions of miles away. She snapped out of it when Lucy got her attention.

"YOU HIM TALK GOOD?" she asked.

"_Finally, we talked. And I think we've broken the spell._" Lucy began to smile broadly. "MORE NEWS HAVE YOU?"

"J-C-K ME CONTINUE SLOW WILL, _I said I needed time to get over things and then think about the future._"

"_So he has decided?_" Sue nodded. "_We're on our way back._" Lucy's smile broke into a huge grin and she hugged Sue. As they parted again, Sue looked at her semi-chastising. 'So, I take it, your tongue slipped once again?' Lucy frowned. 'I'm sorry?'

'Jack said you told him about out plans for Walter.' Once again she grinned. 'Ah, yes…old habits never leave you, I guess. But yes. And speaking of it, I've contacted the Hospital to check if it was possible to organize something like that.'

'And?'

'They said, 'not very common, but it could be arranged' so that's a yes. They also said that tomorrow night would suit best, judging the way he slips away they thought that would be one of his last 'good' days. After that, the ever increasing medication will undoubtedly cause him to slide into sleep. And more…..' Sue nodded as her thoughts trailed off to the fragile man in that hospital bed. 'The arrangements for a funeral, when the time comes, what about them?'

'That's open for discussion, tonight,' said Lucy. 'Does eight o'clock suit you?'

'It does, I don't know about Jack though,' she said.

'Jack?'

'Yes, he said he wanted to participate, something Military about Codes and Honour he said.'

'Right, well, let's ask him then shan't we?' She motioned Jack to come over.

'Sue and I have an appointment with GWU Staff at eight tonight about arrangements for a funeral when the time has come, since he obviously has no arrangements made himself and we considered the standard options to be well….'

'Cold and not too respectful,' Sue added. 'Ah,' he said. 'Well, I happed to be available tonight, no other obligations, nowhere to go to or drive by,' he said and smiled warmly to Sue who returned his playful quip with a smile.

'Good,' said Lucy. 'That's settled then.'

'Uh, you do realize these things cost a lot of money?' he said. 'Yes, but we'll find something.'

'Why?' Sue asked. 'You want to donate?'

He rubbed his hand over his chin, pondering. 'Actually, I have a better idea.'

'Well?'

'He's a veteran, right?'

'Yes, Purple Heart and Bronze Star.'

'Both?' Jack said, surprised. Then he whistled softly. 'That could be interesting…'

Sue furrowed her brows as she looked at him. 'I know you long enough to know you're developing a plan, Hudson.'

'That's why it's good I made up my mind earlier,' he quipped. 'But seriously. Since he's a Vet…..I might try something. I have an old field buddy of mine working with the Department of the Army, and he owes me a favour. Plus, Walter has a Purple Heart, and a Bronze Star. Well, Silver would've been better….but yes,' he said as he rubbed his chin again.

'Will you please tell us what in the world you're getting at?' Lucy asked.

'Arlington,' said Jack. 'A grave at Arlington. Full Military honour and arrangements.'

'Oh my god, that would be….is that even possible?'

'As I said, he owes me. Plus, Walter has good references with the medals concerned.'

'That would be beyond our wildest plans,' Sue said.

He just smiled. 'Imagine what it would mean to Walter.'

'How quick do you know whether you can arrange it?'

'If I start making calls now, I figure I know before we're supposed to meet with GWU again.'

'That would be fantastic.'

'Luce,' Sue said after a while. 'You remember what James had said about free photo-shoots?'

'Yes, of course. Glamour galore, of course I remember. Why?'

'I just had this idea what we could do instead of that.'

Lucy frowned. 'What do you mean?'

'I thought, we're celebrating tomorrow, in a hospital. It might be fun if we had some pictures.'

'You know, that would be nice. I mean, how often does something like that happen? Christmas Dinner in a hospital bed. Might be interesting.'

'I do have his number, I could give him a ring to see if he's interested.'

**

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**

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Lucy checked her watch as she and Sue waited in the Hall of GWU Hospital. She looked out of the glass front-façade onto snow-covered 23rd and I Street to see if she could see Jack coming. 'He said he'd be here on time,' she said to Sue. 'I know. But he's not really someone who takes public transport, so checking to see if he comes out of the Orange or Blue line is not necessary.'

'Hey,' Lucy heard behind her and she turned. Levi pawed Sue who, following Lucy's move, also turned. 'Hey,' she said.

'You thought I'd be late, right?' he said to Lucy. 'That did cross my mind, yes. Looking at the snow.'

'If you thought I would ride the Metro, snow or not, think again.'

'Sue told me.'

'Even the eight dollar an hour fee did not scare you?'

'I parked it in the GWU University garage, you know; coming from 22nd and H. It's not that expensive if you put Uncle Sam's parking permit on the dashboard.' He grinned. Both Sue and Lucy rolled their eyes. 'So, whereto anyway?' he said. 'Don't tell Randy, he'll go berserk,' said Sue. 'This way,' she said as she walked to the lifts.

'So,' said Jack as they sat down in the room where they would have the meeting over the arrangements. 'So what?' Sue asked.

'I made a few calls, with this old buddy of mine.'

'And?'

'He said he would take care of it. He just needed some more details. You know, to make things run smooth.'

'What kind of details?'

'Well, last held rank, medals, unit he was in, from what regiment etcetera.'

'That's what you'll have to ask Walter himself,' said Lucy. 'I think Sue and I are not what you would call experts in Military affairs.' Then a man from GWU Management Staff came in together with a woman.

'Miss Dotson and Miss Thomas?' he said, the woman began to sign. 'Hi, I'm Steven Deveraux, I heard one of you is deaf?' He looked at them, from one to other. Sue nodded. "ME DEAF ME", she said. 'I brought Laura Walker, ASL Interpreter, for your convenience.' The interpreter introduced herself and replied what Deveraux said. "THANK YOU" Sue said. Even though she had grasped what Deveraux had said, it would make things easier, for having a lively discussion with four people or more, after a long day of work, might have been too straining. She introduced Jack.

* * *

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* * *

'So,' Deveraux said as they sat down, 'I've taken the liberty to bring a few of the arrangements we have to offer. It ranges from very simple to quite, well, extraordinary. Depending on budget of course.'

'Well, Mister Deveraux, I haven't had time to let you know we might have something arranged already.' He lifted his brows a little. 'You have?'

Both Sue and Lucy nodded. 'Oh, right, eh…not to be too nosy, but what did you have in mind?'

'Arlington,' Lucy said. 'Arlington? As in Arlington?' Deveraux sounded a little surprised.

'Walter is a Korea Veteran, decorated and all, and he's eligible for a Military funeral.'

'I see, we knew he had been in the army at some point, but not that he had been in a war.'

'Well,' Lucy began, 'that's as far as our knowledge goes.'

'I see,' said Deveraux. He scribbled something on a notepad. 'It does have a certain something extra we can't offer.'

'I think Walter would appreciate it,' said Sue, 'but I would like to go over the possibilities you offer, just in case.' Deveraux handed her a few brochures. She could see he had a question.

'Yes?'

'Just wondering, how do you managed to get it all arranged? I mean, I take it, this isn't something you'd do everyday would you?'

'That's where Jack comes in,' Sue said. 'He's an army-man himself, well, used to be. He had the contacts. He offered to try and arrange things. We took his offer.'

'We just need to know a few things about his Military past,' Jack said. 'Rank, unit, stuff like that.' Deveraux plucked his lower lip. 'I'm afraid that's something you have to ask someone else, I don't have it on my chart here.'

'Oh, that's okay, we're going to ask Walter himself later.'

Deveraux flipped open his notepad. 'That's settled then, leaves us with one more thing to discuss. Your plans concerning a dinner.'

'I was informed it was okay if we did, not something you do everyday, but manageable?'

Deveraux nodded. 'Yes, but we need to know things too and the most important one is: when? His condition is deteriorating, rapidly.'

'The doctor that monitors him opted for tomorrow night.'

'Tomorrow night it is then. What did you have in mind specifically? As to arrangements, food etcetera?'

'Do you do external catering, or is there an option for your hospital catering to be 'hired'?'

'We don't do external catering, I'm afraid. But you can talk to the Catering Chef, he'd be happy to give you a few ideas about the possibilities. I'll see if I can arrange something tonight for a briefing. We do have a few restrictions as to Doctor's advises, but I'm sure you'll work out something together.'

'That would be fantastic.'

'Anything else we should know of?' Lucy asked.

'It has to be held within the visiting hours, of course a little flexibility is possible, but we do have a lights-out policy at ten-thirty.'

'We understand, and he's old and frail, it won't take hours, it just needs to be, well, special.'

'Will it be White Tie or something similar?'

'Eh, not really sure. Walter didn't struck us as a White Tier, but then again…'

'I'll see if we have a smoking for him, give him a fresh cut. After all, it has to be something special.'

'Would you?'

'It's not everyday we get a chance to be like this, we're a hospital. It's nice to do something else for a change and make him forget.' He smiled.

'That would be, I don't know how to put it…' Sue began. Deveraux shrugged a little. 'Your compassion for Walter hasn't been unnoticed, upstairs. And we would be pleased to host something like this. Consider it arranged.' He got up. 'I'll be in touch, soon.' He gave them a hand. 'Speaking on behalf of GWU, I think you're doing an amazing job.'


	17. Chapter 17

**XV**

**H**e had lost his faith a long time ago. If he ever had possessed it, he didn't know, but if he had, he had lost it definitely. If it were possible to look for something abstract, the most likely place to start would be a grassy hill near Chosin. There, he was left bereft. As his world had shattered, his soul did too. Over time the fragments were put together, but the essential pieces remained in the soil where he fell.

The nights still brought him back. A film on repeat for eternity. At least in his lifetime. After it there would be peace of mind and rest. Now, as he closed his eyes, he waded through the waist-high waving grass. The sun setting, giving the green swaying thin leaves a hypnotising reddish glow. He squinted his eyes and saw other figures, tinted dark, moving around him too. The soft rustling of the wind that blew. Other than that, silence.

Then, one fell. Suddenly, his figure was swept away, vanished. The next thing he had remembered was crawling frantically over the dry soil. The grassroots rattled and hummed, whistled as bullets swept through it and groaned as shells exploded with muffled thumps. The sizzling hot, red-glowing shrapnel mowing down grass and men. His mouth was dry, his throat burned with a sudden thirst as his mouth was opened in an inaudible scream, and the grass cut his cheeks as he tried to make himself as little as possible as he lost it in the pandemonium of destruction, death and noise.

The clicking sounds the firing-pins had made as the Chinese soldiers, who walked past him a few feet away through the tall grass, cocked the firing-bolts of their rifles as they were looking for survivors they would shoot. He felt an arm on him and he jolted.

'Walter?'

He opened his eyes. No Chinese soldier, no cocking firing-pins, just the face of Lucy. He coughed, the intensity of his déja-vu brought him from the psychological torment into the physical discomfort.

'You alright?' she asked worried. He nodded and he smiled to Sue. The smile died when he spotted the dark-haired man next to her. She saw his posture stiffen.

'Walter, I want you to meet Jack Hudson, a co-worker.' He eyed him with suspicious glances. The man who was called Jack offered his hand. He stared at it.

'It's okay, he's not here for business,' said Sue.

'Then….why?'

'I heard you were in the army,' Jack said. Walter nodded stiffly. 'I was….'

'I also heard you are a Korea Vet, Purple Heart and Bronze Star no less.' Again he nodded.

'As a former Military man myself I had to meet you.'

That got his interest, he mustered Jack with considerably more interest. 'Really? Where?'

'Marines, Parris Island.' He nodded. 'One of those boys who refuses to dig in, I take it…'

Jack chuckled. 'I've been known to, over time, yeah.'

'You looked like you were having a bad dream just when we came in,' said Sue. He shrugged a little. 'I've grown used to it, nothing major.'

'How are you feeling now?' He leaned back on his pillow. 'The pain's gone, more endurable, must be the painkillers I guess. Doc's pumped quite a lot.' He looked at them. 'Don't you have something to do for the holidays? It's almost time, you should be shopping and preparing rather then sticking with me.'

'Trust me, Walter, we wouldn't want to be anywhere else than here.'

He smiled. 'Thank you, I appreciate it.'

'We know.' He frowned a little. 'You don't look too Marine-like to me,' he said as he mustered Jack. Jack followed his gaze and looked down. 'Yeah, I might've gained a few pounds. We might be G-men, it's still partially a desk job.'

Walter plucked his lower lip, a frail pale hand, with an IV attached to it and skinny fingers.

'Walter?' Jack asked. He looked up. 'What division were you in? I mean, back in Korea?'

He eyed him with a little suspicion. 'Why do you need to know, it's long gone, there was nothing heroic about it.'

'It was, if you got the medals you have,' Jack said. Walter huffed a little as he stared at the end of his bed, where his toes pushed up the blanket. 'I just got a buddy out, and got snatched myself.' He looked up. 'All the things you're drilled to boast about, laugh at when you hear it…..'

'What about them,' Jack asked, his voice sympathetically.

'You've been a Marine, you're taught the same nonsense….you know what I mean….'

Jack nodded. 'I know….out there, it's different….'

'You're damn right it is. Nothing is heroic about it, nothing,' he said with a sudden fury. 'You see your buddies getting blown to pieces, and all the time you're hoping you're spared. And you're scared out of your wits.' He rested his head on his pillow. He closed his eyes and shook his head, slowly. Then his eyes flew open again.

'You know what they didn't teach you?'

Jack shook his head. 'No, I don't.'

'You can taste fear. Smell it too. Never knew that. But now I can never forget. It's the most sickening thing I've ever experienced.'

'What happened?'

'I was with the 7th Infantry. My unit was up at the Chosin Reservoir. On higher grounds were the Chinese and the Norths. We took it, the Chinese wanted it back. Just after Christmas 1950, they shelled us to pieces, and then they came, wave after wave. We used our bayonets when the ammo ran out.'

'That's when you were wounded?' Lucy asked. He nodded. 'At one point, the Chinese broke through our lines, and made a pincer movement. My unit got trapped in the cul-de-sac. I got hit by shrapnel when I hauled one of my buddies out of the line of fire.' He sighed, a trembling sigh, as he relived once again the horror. 'After that, I was a mess. Never recovered fully as you can see,' he said, a rueful smile on his face as he gestured at his figure laying in bed. 'But at least I'm a decorated mess.'

'Oh, Walter, don't talk like that,' Sue said as she took his hand.

'It's the truth.' He coughed hard, his body in a spasm, a couple of tears trailed down from the corners of his closed, squeezed shut eyes. He looked tired suddenly, his eyes watery, dull. 'I'm sorry, I'm not that good company.'

'That's okay, you can go to sleep if you want.' He smiled a small smile. 'A couple of days, and I can sleep forever.'

'Not yet, not yet,' Sue said softly. She stroked his hand with her thumb. Jack watched her doing it, then shied his eyes away from the tender scene. 'Besides, we do have something planned for you, tomorrow.' His dull, solemn eyes lit up, getting back a bit of that old depth and sparkle she mused they once ought to have possessed. 'Tomorrow?'

She nodded. 'I'm afraid I cannot tell you everything, but it's going to be special.'

'How special?'

'You'll see,' Lucy smiled. His grey brows furrowed. 'That's why you were here earlier?'

'You do seem to notice things don't you?'

He grinned. 'I might be old, my brains hasn't gone south. Just the rest.'

'Shame you didn't join the FBI,' Jack said.

'Well, let's say I wasn't in the mood. Nor the shape, back then.'

**

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The door opened and Steven Deveraux walked in. 'I'm sorry to interrupt, but I've spoken to Craig, the Catering Chef, and he's available to discuss things with you. Unfortunately, his time is scheduled, so he would like to do it now. If that isn't a problem…'

'We're on our way,' said Lucy.

'Good, I'll be at the reception.' He closed the door again.

Walter looked at them. 'Catering?'

Sue leaned over to him as she got up and pulled the blanket up a little. 'Shhh, enough said, it's time you get some rest. We'll be here tomorrow.' He nodded.

They said goodbye and left.

After they had left, he stared at the ceiling, musing. _Did he believe in the divine? In God?_ He slowly shook his head. _No, not really_. The orphanage, the war, it had all contributed to it. Reality had been harsh on him, and religion the way he had experienced offered no comfort. Nor an explanation for the things that had happened.

Therefore the idea was ever more strange to him. _Had some divine spirit crossed his path? Did God take pity upon him?_ Up until a few days ago, he would never have thought about the unlikely scenario that had unfolded the past few days. When two women found him, at his most vulnerable, and had taken him into their midst.

He remembered the tales about the Good Samaritan, how he, selflessly, took pity on someone he did not know. And showed compassion where others had just feigned ignorance or even showed hostility. Lucy and Sue had been his Samaritans.

He felt how fatigue took over and he gave in to it and closed his eyes. Then, for the first time in what seemed ages, his sleep was peaceful.


	18. Chapter 18

**XVI**

**L**ove, it has been said, can be expressed in a dazzling variety of ways. It's about letting in, reaching out, showing true compassion, being a Samaritan. It can be in small things that one finds true compassion, closely intertwined with love. It does not necessarily need to be a grand gesture, or a message accompanied with pomp and circumstances. Preferably not.

The most priceless of things are the little gems we, humans, are capable to give to each other. It's nothing palpable, yet, as a Contradicio in Terminis, it is. It's giving warmth to those who need it. Shelter to those in need of a refuge. It's about giving hope for those who despair, standing up for the one being bullied. To give someone a place to feel welcome, to make them feel valuable and unique; those things are priceless. Its value cannot be expressed in any materialized form, but only measured in something so incontestably immeasurable as emotions and feelings.

No one, save the odd hermit, wants to be alone. No one wants to spend his or her life void of any contacts. The Conditio Sine Qua Non is interaction with each other. We're social beings, in essence, we want to belong. We want to be part of a group, even when we're keen to express how individually we are, that still makes us want to be part of a group. Being an outcast has such deep emotional impact, the trauma inflicted by it will never fully heal.

If someone is able to find the key to unlock that door of isolation, beautiful things can happen and have happened. Every now and then, someone opens that door and welcomes someone else inside. To come home, to be expected and cherished.

To be respected.

To be loved.

**

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He looked at a strange man in front of him. Hair trimmed, cleanly shaved face, clad impeccably in a black tuxedo. He smelled the subtle vanilla touch of Eau de Cologne and he picked up the black small box that stood on the tray next to the basin. In graceful gold letters it read: Hugo Boss Baldessarini.

He couldn't remember when the last time was when he had used Eau de Cologne, he couldn't even remember if he ever had.

Only when he saw the IV that was attached to the hand, the frail hand that was his, that held the box, he was certain the man that differed from him like day and night was actually him.

He let his eyes wander over the impeccable suit he had been given. Leaning on a crutch he looked in the mirror. He let his hand run over his smooth, shaven, skin. A feeling he hadn't experienced in years. It was almost impossible to put into words what he felt now. How just a shave, a haircut and fresh clothes was capable to achieve so much. How it could alter the way he felt, the way he was looked at when he left the bathing-room and slowly made his way over the corridor to his room. People turned their heads to look at him.

Where once the same heads had turned in disgust, with visible loathing, now it was different. They were admiring, approving.

But inside he still was the same man as before. Unconsciously he began to walk more erect. Despite his bad legs, his hurting back, the numbing pain that was only bearable through the doses of morphine that dripped into his veins through the IV.

And he felt how shame flowed away. Walter 'Bear' Prescott regained, bit by bit, his self-esteem, his dignity he had been bereft of for so long.

When he slowly stepped into his room, he froze on the threshold.

Inside, where once the hospital atmosphere had hung heavy like a Miami summer afternoon thunderstorm, the smell of Lysol had barred the door for any fresh air, now it seemed it was transformed into something far away from here.

A long table, enshrouded in a soft white tablecloth, the edges hanging elegantly to the floor, stood where once the bed had been. Around the table, four seats were arranged, each on one side. The dinner-set was more elaborate than he had ever seen in his lifetime, the cutlery in four-fold arranged neatly around each plate, three wineglasses, in different shapes and sizes on the right of each plate, serviettes folded into complicated patterns, standing on the left.

Then he saw Lucy, Sue and Jack standing next to the table. He tore his gaze from the fairytale table and looked at them. Sue, in a long red silken evening dress with bare shoulders, her hair in a breathtaking coupe, with just a few strands of hair hanging loose, two fine small shiny diamond earrings and red silk opera gloves, invited him to come further into the room.

Lucy, clad in a black velvet two-piece body and dress, her hair framing her face in graceful waves, walked over to him and offered him her arm. Walter, beaming now, took it and she escorted him to his seat. Jack, in tuxedo, just like him, helped him getting seated. For a while he could do nothing but admire everything that stood there, the atmosphere, the people, the dazzling scenery in front of him.

A hand on his arm brought him back from his reverie. 'Do you like it?' Sue asked.

'I eh…I don't know what to say, this…..' His mind was still so overwhelmed he truly did not know what to say. Sue bit her lip as she followed his gaze that lingered on the exquisite arrangements. 'Yes, we might've been carried away a little bit, I think….'

'No, no, it's….it's beautiful. I never saw anything like this before…' he admitted.

'Never?' He shook his head. 'Never, or at least not as beautiful as this.'

Then the door opened once again and Craig, along with two other kitchen staff rolled in the trolleys. 'Walter, meet Craig Fenmore, the Mâitre-de-Maison for tonight,' Lucy said. Craig shook Walter's hand.

Meanwhile, Steven Deveraux had entered too, smiling broadly at the scene in front of him. 'It's even more grand than we'd anticipated it would be,' he said. Both Lucy and Sue nodded. Walter was still at a loss for words, but through nodding he showed his excitement.

'This,' he began as he gestured at the table and the trolleys and staff around, 'is all for me?'

'Yes, Walter. Tonight, it's all for you. And us of course, the amount of delicious food was just too much for us to pass the opportunity to dine properly,' Sue joked. They laughed.

One of the kitchen staff came forward with a chilled bottle of Portuguese 1999 Vinho Verde and poured some of the translucent, almost colourless wine with just a tinge of green, in their glasses.

'The Adega the Monçao, a most fragile and young wine, less known outside of Portugal, the best the House of Alvarinho has to offer,' Craig said as he took the plates from a trolley and served them the entrée. 'It's fresh, a tad bit of a sour touch and it perfectly balances with the Coquilles, lightly grilled with a sauce from white grapes and dragon with a sprinkle of Calvares White Port,' he said as he and the other staff placed the plates on their plates. 'Enjoy,' he said.

Walter looked lost a little, but Sue helped him out. 'You have to start with the outer knife and fork, see how they're smaller? Those are meant for the first course.'

He nodded his thanks and cautiously he took a bite. 'And?'

He took his time to taste. 'It's great,' he said. 'It's really good.'

Sue began to smile. 'Now you've tasted it, why won't we all.' So they did.

Then, halfway during their entrée, James Fielding, the photographer, came into the room too. Sue nodded her thanks as they made eye-contact. 'Walter?' she got his attention. 'I've asked James to make some photos of tonight, as a reminder of this Christmas Meal. For you, and for us.' Her eyes lingered on Jack who, when she explained why James was here, acknowledged her gesture with a smile. She smiled back.

After their entrées, Craig and the staff came with the first dish of many more, accompanied with fine wine, the best French Cuisine had to offer. Bœuf Bourgignon, Gratin Dauphinois, Confit de Canard, each tastefully on their own, combined with fine wines like a 2003 Valdepeñas Grande Reserva, and the exquisite 2001 French winter-grape wine Chateau Valmy, it was a meal worthy of kings. Served for a modest man, and his newly formed family.

Over time, during the evening, more people gathered to enjoy the unique atmosphere. Centre of all, a man who, just days before, was almost forgotten.

Almost.

**

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And so, the evening, in its kind celebrated in many houses and families, nationwide and around the globe, was precisely what the true spirit of Christmas has got to be.

It was the warm shroud of belonging, fitting in. The moment the presence of beloved ones makes us feel blessed, loved and respected.

The same shroud that had now covered a man, whose life had lacked the essence of it all, who never felt comfortable, never fully capable of making something a place of his own.

Now, just a few days before Christmas, he had found such a place.

After seventy-four years, Walter 'Bear' Prescott was finally home.


	19. Chapter 19

**Epilogue**

**T**he leafless beeches stood fiercely next to each other. Lined up as nature's personal guards. Their greyish stems distinctly contrasting with the white cloth of the freshly fallen snow. The gradually climbing slopes seemed covered in silk as the watery sun shone upon it.

Just next to one of those beeches a small crowd had gathered.

Centre of it, covered with the Stars and Stripes and hovering over a pit, was a coffin. Next to it there were six men, clad in uniforms with golden tresses, spit-polished shoes. On their arms the round red patch with a black sharp edged hourglass with in the background its distinctive bayonet emblem was visible. The Seventh Infantry Division, now a training division for many National Guards, had come from Fort Carson, Colorado, to say goodbye to one of their own.

A blonde woman, a dog, a black woman, a dark-haired man and many more stood alongside it. As the priest committed Walter 'Bear' Prescott's body back to the earth, Sue looked up to the sky.

As a salute, it seemed, there was a formation of geese that flew by. Their distinctive V-pattern almost resembled the salute the Air Force would make on such occasions. The Missing Man, where one of them leaves the group and wanders off.

An invisible signal made the six men shoulder their weapons, aiming towards the sky as they fired three times their final salute. She felt the vibrations of the shots and the thundering salvos were audible. A crow, stirred by the gunshots, flew up from a tree in the distance.

When they were done, they held the Stars and Stripes above the grave as Walter was lowered into his final resting place.

They folded the flag until no stripe was visible anymore and one of them handed it over to Sue and saluted.

Despite the sad nature of such an event, no one really cried. There was nothing to be sad for. He had finally experienced what was long overdue. And found, alongside with that, a family who took him in their midst. Unconditionally.

As the crowd had dispersed, silence, once again, fell over Arlington Cemetery. A white stone, about three feet high, curved slightly at the top, remained. In it were carved out the emblem of the Bayonets and the man who had once been part of it.

Walter 'Bear' Prescott, 7th Infantry, 1933-2007

Lest We Forget.

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The End

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**Author's Note: **although the story originally was planned to be completed earlier, I think through all the time that went by it has gained more quality. Therefore, the decision to continue has paid off.

For those who like to know a little more. Here's a useful bonus:

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The symbol above, which I used in the divider throughout the story is an Arabic Koranic Illustration. It is called Arabic Place of Sajdah (the Residence of Sajdah). A subtle reference to various elements in the story.


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